


The River Lethe

by akh, everytimeyougo



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Amnesia, F/M, New Caprica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 52,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6759223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akh/pseuds/akh, https://archiveofourown.org/users/everytimeyougo/pseuds/everytimeyougo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill had nearly made it to the section where he knew Laura's lodgings to be located, when suddenly he lost his train of thought and everything inside his head seemed to go haywire. (Set during the missing year on New Caprica.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> __
> 
> Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls  
> Her watery labyrinth, whereof who drinks  
> Forthwith his former state and being forgets  
> -John Milton, Paradise Lost

_New Caprica_

Bill waved to the ground crew as he set out from the airfield, a sense of anticipation rising in the pit of his stomach as he allowed his mind to wander ahead to the meeting he had been looking forward to for some time now.

Apart from a few notes they had exchanged concerning supplies needed for the school, he had not had any contact with Laura since the night of the groundbreaking when they had both overindulged in the local smokable plant and homemade booze. Considering they had both still been under the influence at the time of his departure, he wasn't sure what to expect of their meeting now.

In fact, the note he had sent Laura two days before, informing her of his planned visit to the ground, had gone unanswered. This, however, Bill knew could be due to any number of reasons. Getting a word up to Galactica when you had no official position in the government apparently required some special maneuvering. Perhaps she had not deemed it worth the trouble this time, knowing they would see each other soon anyway.

She knew what time he was arriving and Bill could only hope she would be waiting for him in her tent since she had not met him at the airfield.

He didn’t want to consider other possibilities but, trudging forward along the muddy path that lead from the airfield to the tent city, Bill wondered if he could have misread Laura on the night of the groundbreaking. She had been openly flirtatious with him then for sure, but they had been inebriated for most of the day and night. What if she had only wanted to let loose and have fun that one time? Bill had no doubt that his visit would be welcome, but was he arriving with his expectations too high if he wished to start building something more profound after one drug fueled night under the stars?

He was certain that whatever seemed to flicker between them had to be mutual to at least some degree, but that didn’t necessarily mean that Laura was ready or even willing to take their admittedly complicated relationship to the next level. Gods knew that Bill had his own reservations, too, doubtful as it was that this peace would last forever, or that the people would be satisfied for long with the life this planet had to offer, but until then? Bill knew he would forever be kicking himself if he didn’t at least try, and he hoped that Laura had arrived to a similar conclusion during the weeks they had spent apart.

With his mind thus occupied, Bill had nearly made it to the section where he knew Laura's lodgings to be located, when suddenly he lost his train of thought and everything inside his head seemed to go haywire.

His vision blurred. It was not the transient blur that came from a stray speck of dust or an eyelash blown into his eye, but instead it felt like he was suddenly, inexplicably, exceedingly drunk.

Coming to an abrupt, wobbly stop, he pulled off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes with his fist, trying to clear them, already realizing it was futile. Something was wrong, very wrong. When he inhaled, the air seemed to liquify and become trapped in his lungs. The long scar bisecting his chest burned hot for the first time in nearly a year.

 _Laura_. He just needed to get to Laura and she’d know what to do.

Glasses falling to the ground unnoticed, he took a heavy step forward, then another, and another. It was getting dark, which was odd because it was the middle of the day. Or was it? Was he late? No, no, he was going to see Laura; he would never be late for that.

He squinted into the shadowy twilight that had replaced the sunny afternoon. What was that up ahead? Was someone coming? Maybe it was Laura. He tried to take a step toward her, tried to raise his hand in greeting, but he couldn’t tell if his limbs actually responded to his commands. And now she was gone, like she had never been there at all. Perhaps she hadn’t been.

“No!” he tried to call out, but no sound emerged. “Come back!” His mouth wasn’t moving, but inside he shouted, shouted for Laura, for anyone, to come and help him.

Worn out from the effort of trying to speak, to move, to understand what was happening to him, the last of the Admiral’s strength expired, and he fell, first to his knees and then off to the side, his head connecting sharply with one of the large rocks lining the pathway. Luckily by then he was no longer capable of experiencing pain.

 ***

Some time passed before people began to gather around the Admiral's slumped body, nobody quite sure what should be done about a man apparently passed out drunk in the middle of the afternoon.

"Poor sod," someone muttered.

"Let him sleep it off," another voice joined the general murmur that seemed to be in agreement.

"They spend all that time up there with everything they could ever need and then come down here to ‘unwind’ like their life is so hard," a third disgruntled voice joined in even as the crowd began to break up.

"But isn't that...?" Yet another voice piped up after most of the others had already moved on. "Hey, Chief!" the same voice continued, calling for the former Senior Chief Petty Officer of Galactica who just then happened to be walking down an adjacent lane, separated from the scene by a row of tents.

Galen Tyrol paused, located the source of the voice, and then shuffled between a pair of tents to cross to the other side.

"What is it?" he asked, his eyes landing on the body lying on the ground. At the moment of recognition, he sprinted towards the body and kneeled down.

"Admiral," he breathed, turning the body so that he lay on his back. "Sir!" he raised his voice, slapping the cheek of his former commander. The Admiral did not even stir.

Galen looked up at the man who had stopped him.

"Get Cottle!" he yelled at him, pointing in the direction of the medical tent. "Now!"

***

Laura hummed softly to herself as she moved around her tent, tidying that which was already tidy in a vain attempt to calm her nerves. _What is wrong with you?_ she asked herself when her stomach fluttered in anticipation every time her eyes fell on the small makeshift picnic basket set by the door flap. _By the gods, Laura, it’s just Bill._

But there was no denying something had shifted between the two of them now that she was no longer the President. The last time he was here was…well it was mostly a blur if she was being honest, but while she couldn’t remember the details of what they talked about, she could definitely remember how it felt to be with him.

It had been so long since she experienced anything like it, that indescribable feeling of…well, of _liking_ someone. It was a ridiculous turn of phrase for a middle aged woman to be using, but nothing more dignified came close to describing the heady combination of giddiness, desire, and affection she experienced that night under the stars with Bill.

But how much of it was real, and how much was chemically induced? That was what she hoped to figure out today. Bill was coming for a visit and she was going to take him up to the spot by the lake she told him about, the place she hoped to build someday, assuming this peace lasted long enough.

Exhaling noisily, she glanced at her watch and walked back to the other side of her tent, sitting down at her small table where a stack of Colonial History essays awaited her attention. She may as well get some work done while she was waiting. He was nearly half an hour late. Time was something of a fluid concept on New Caprica, but she would have thought Bill would be operating by the much stricter military clock. She hoped nothing was wrong.

For another half an hour Laura steadfastly tried to immerse herself in the students' essays, but her eyes were constantly drawn to her watch instead, her concern increasing with every passing minute. In all the time she had known Bill, the one thing she had always been able to rely on was his punctuality. Any delays, which for obvious reasons could not always be avoided, used to be reported to her with military precision.

But then, Laura sighed, she wasn't the President anymore. She wasn't even close to being the first person on the list to be informed if anything unexpected came up.

 _This is ridiculous_ , she told herself, dropping her pen with a little more force than necessary as she stood up again, finally abandoning the school work as a futile attempt at distraction.

What was it to her anyway if Bill did not come? A note would find its way to her eventually if it turned out he couldn't make it down as planned.

Glancing at the picnic basket that still lay by the door flap, Laura tried to ignore the nagging sensation that felt too much like disappointment as she considered the possibility that Bill would not come after all. He had his responsibilities and there was nothing she could do about it. Even if she did admit to disappointment, the cause was only natural: Bill was her friend and she had not seen him in weeks. Of course she had looked forward to seeing him now. There didn't need to be anything more to it. Another opportunity would arise and she would welcome him whenever he was able to come.

Even after having reasoned with herself, Laura could not help feeling that something else was off. Opening the flap of her tent, she peeked outside but could see nothing out of the ordinary. No sign of Bill, either.

Perhaps she could venture out in the direction of the airfield. If Bill had sent word of a delay, or had cancelled his arrival entirely, she might be able to find out about it from the ground control, depending on who was on watch. If, on the other hand, he was only arriving late, she could meet him halfway.

Satisfied with her plan, Laura set out from her tent. She had not even made it out of her section, however, when she found Cally Tyrol running towards her.

"Oh, thank the gods I found you, Madam Pres...Ms. Roslin," the younger woman panted as she came to a halt in front of the former President.

While Cally drew breaths, Laura could feel a sense of dread settling in her gut and she swallowed a lump in her throat before she spoke:

"Cally, what is it?" she asked, unable to keep a tremor from her voice. "What's the matter?"

Cally continued to wheeze, her hand pressed tightly to her chest and Laura was just about ready to shake the young woman when she finally answered the question.

“It’s the Admiral, ma’am,” she said, speaking the very words Laura feared she would. “Galen found him on the ground, unconscious, just over there.” Cally pointed vaguely behind her. “He’s in the medical tent now. Doc Cottle told me to find you and get you over there right away.”

Cally was still speaking, but Laura had already turned and started to run toward the medical tent. She only made it a few yards when she skidded to a sudden stop, hand flying up to cover her mouth. She pointed to the ground and turned back to Cally.

“Yeah,” the younger woman said, confirming her suspicions. “That’s where he was. I guess he hit his head.”

A large rock along the side of the path was stained with blood, enough of it that it seemed to have run in rivulets down the side of the rock and soaked into the surrounding dirt.

She whirled around, looking past Cally to her own tent, clearly visible, not twenty yards away.

_Oh Bill._

But there were no time for what-ifs right now. The Admiral needed her.

She was about to take off again at a run when suddenly a glimmer of something half buried in the mud caught her eye. Bill's glasses. Covering her mouth to hide her gasp, Laura quickly stepped forward and picked them up, turning them over in her hands. She was satisfied after a brief survey that they were still intact. _Unlike Bill_.

Blinking rapidly for a moment, Laura wiped the glasses clean on the hem of her shirt and then sprinted off towards the medical tent.


	2. Chapter 2

Dr. Cottle was leaning over Bill’s unmoving form when Laura burst into the medical tent moments later. For all the fear and desperation she felt on her way there, now that she had arrived, she found she was afraid to go any closer. He looked so still and pale. Was he even alive?

“He’s alive,” Cottle said, answering the question she hadn’t meant to speak out loud. “But he’s not in good shape.”

“What happened?” she asked, inching closer. “He fell? Hit his head?” There was a large white bandage affixed to Bill's temple and his face was streaked with dried blood.

Cottle grumbled in the affirmative. “That’s not the only problem though. Head injuries can bleed like motherfrakkers, and I’m going to keep him unconscious until I can get scans to make sure there’s no swelling of the brain, but I don’t think the fall itself is going to be life threatening if we treat him correctly. It’s what made him fall in the first place that’s the issue.”

“And what is that?” she asked.

“Frakked if I know,” the doctor said darkly.

"What do you mean?" Laura asked, still lingering a little distance away from the gurney Bill had been placed on.

"I mean what I said," Cottle grumbled, checking the IV drip and giving it a little jostle. "I don't know and because I don't like guessing, we're going to need to run some tests to find out."

"It's  - it's not his heart, is it?" Laura asked, cautiously stepping a little closer. They called him the Old Man but she had never really thought of him as old - had never really considered his mortality at all because until recently it had seemed so obvious that she would be the one to go first.

"His heart?" The doctor pointed at the monitor that had escaped Laura's notice while she had been focused on Bill. "That old thing is beating just fine. It's his head I'm more concerned about. I'm going to need to run an MRI but frak if they have any equipment for that on this excuse for a planet."

"You're taking him up to Galactica?" Laura asked. She had wondered about the gurney, knowing that even here they had more comfortable beds available, but it made sense now. Of course she should have figured it out sooner. The risk of infection alone on this mudhole could turn an even smaller wound into a death sentence.

"As soon as I can be sure he can be moved safely," Cottle replied. "I've stitched the head wound but I'm putting some more liquids into him and making sure his vitals are stable before he goes anywhere."

Laura nodded quietly. She looked at Bill, unconscious and unmoving, and then let her eyes wander to his discarded clothes, tossed into a corner of the tent, covered in blood.

They could have been hiking together towards the mountains by now. They _should_ have been.

The thought caused Laura's breath to hitch and her hand flew to her mouth in a futile attempt to cover a reaction she would rather have kept private. She quickly turned away.

Behind her she could hear Cottle take a few steps, then with the flick-whoosh of a lighter, the smell of cigarette smoke filled her nose. After a moment, the doctor cleared his throat, and with a quick swipe at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt, she turned back around.

"So," he said, not looking directly at her, "if I'm going upstairs, Ishay's going to have to be down here. Can't leave the masses with no medical assistance at all. Which means I'm going to need a nurse. Preferably one the Old Man can't intimidate, because if last time is any indication, he's going to be a real pain in the ass about staying in bed when he wakes up.

Catching his implication immediately, Laura nodded vigorously. "Yes, I'm sure that's true. If you think perhaps _I_ could be of assistance, I could arrange for Tory and Maya to take over my duties at the school for a couple of days."

"Good," Cottle said, as if that settled that. "You can start now. I have to pack up. Holler if anything starts beeping, or if he wakes up. I’ve given him a sedative, though, so that shouldn’t happen." Before she could say another word, she was watching his white coated back retreat through the side tent flap. Laura knew as well as Cottle did that there were any number of bored crew members aboard Galactica he could have recruited to work in Life Station. This was his gift to her, and she was grateful.

Looking back to Bill, she slowly approached the gurney until she was standing right beside him. While the steady blip of the heart monitor assured her he was alive, his gray complexion and lack of animation, so at odds with his normally commanding presence, continued to make her uneasy. "Well this doesn't help," she murmured, gently touching a finger to his cheek, which was streaked with drying blood.

Looking around, she located a clean washcloth and a basin of water. Dipping the cloth in the water, she returned to Bill's side and began gently wiping the blood from his face. "You know," she told him, "I should be annoyed with you. I went to great trouble to put together a picnic lunch for us today. Ambrosia isn't easy to come by down here, but I found some." The pitch of her voice climbed noticeably on the last couple of words and she closed her eyes and waited for the tightening at the back of her throat to ease before speaking again. "But that's okay, it'll keep, and as soon as you're better, we'll try it again." She nodded to herself. They would. Because he was going to be better in no time at all. She wouldn't accept any other alternative.

For the next hour or two - Laura couldn't really tell because it felt almost as if time had stopped entirely - she kept watch over Bill while Cottle moved in and out of the tent, putting together supplies needed for the flight, checking in on his other patients, and giving instructions to Ishay on how to proceed with them. Every now and then he came over to Bill's gurney, looked at the monitors, shone a flashlight to his eyes, made some other checks, and then moved away muttering something to himself that Laura could never quite catch.

She didn't ask him either, knowing the doctor well enough to be sure if he had anything to tell her, he wouldn't hesitate to say it out loud. Instead, she backed off whenever Cottle came over, watched from a safe distance as he performed his checks, and then wordlessly scooted back to her spot by Bill's side once the coast was clear again.

Not even once, during all the time that passed, did Bill give any sign of regaining consciousness, but it didn't stop Laura from speaking to him as if he could hear her.

"We're going back to Galactica soon," she told him in a hushed tone after another one of Cottle's visits, as if letting him in on a well guarded secret. "I know you'll like it better there.”  As if the reason for his removal wasn't purely medical. "And I'll be there when you wake up. I'll be..."

She didn't finish her sentence because at that moment Cottle returned again, clearing his throat a little louder than necessary as he stood by the tent's entrance, making his presence known before he approached the gurney. Instinctively, Laura stood up a little straighter and stepped back, putting more distance between herself and Bill.

Summoning her presidential face, she looked at the doctor and raised her eyebrow in a wordless question. Was it time?

Cottle nodded.  "I've enlisted two marines I trust to help convey the Admiral to the raptor," he explained, cutting right to the chase. "Because we should probably try to keep this on the downlow, I’ve instructed them to pull a blanket over him before they leave the tent. I’ll go ahead and prepare the aircraft for the patient. You can..." he paused, looked at Laura, and shrugged. "Well, you do whatever you need to do to get ready. We’re cleared for take off in thirty minutes."

Only when the doctor exited the tent and the two marines stepped in, did it occur to Laura that while watching over Bill, she had done nothing to prepare herself for the unexpected departure. If she ran to her tent, she would have just enough time to pick up at least some of her meager belongings before boarding the raptor. She also needed to brief Tory on what had happened.

***

Taking care of her responsibilities as a teacher came first. Tory was uncharacteristically sympathetic upon hearing the news and immediately agreed to cover for Laura and make up a story to tell Maya and anyone else who asked. Cottle was right about the need for secrecy. Nothing good could come from Baltar hearing Bill was incapacitated, no matter how temporarily. Laura, grateful but rushed, gave her former aide an impulsive hug before hurrying off.

She then made her way to her nearby tent to pick up a few necessities for her unexpected trip. She gathered some clothing, her brush and toothbrush, and after a few seconds’ consideration, grabbed the essays she still needed to mark.  After shoving everything into the first bag she could get her hands on, Laura tied the flaps of her tent and, without looking back, took off towards the airfield to meet the transport.

The raptor they were taking had been converted to serve as an air ambulance of sorts, with a lot of the equipment and electronics removed to create space in the aft compartment for a gurney, portable medical equipment, and personnel. When Laura arrived at the airfield, Bill had already been loaded into the raptor and the marines were busy locking the legs of the gurney into mechanisms in the floor designed to keep it from moving while in flight.

Dr. Cottle was standing just outside the open hatch, cigarette in hand. “All set, young lady?” he asked when he saw her.

“All set,” she confirmed. “Tory will look after the school for as long as necessary.”

“Well, for the sake of both the Admiral and your students, let’s hope that’s not long.” He flicked his cigarette away and turned to climb into the raptor.

“You can sit up front with me, ma’am,” a voice came from behind her, and when she turned, she recognized Lt. Edmondson who had ferried her from Colonial One to Galactica on numerous occasions.

“Thank you, Racetrack,” she said, and the young woman beamed with pride at the former President’s use of her callsign. Laura could see the exact moment when she remembered why they were there and the smile faded from her face. She passed Laura and jumped up on the wing, then reached down to offer her hand. “How is the Admiral, ma’am?”

She accepted the help up, then shook her head as she followed the lieutenant to the cockpit. “Unfortunately we just don’t know.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

_Galactica_

They arrived on Galactica without incident, but also without any sign of improvement from Bill. When Laura emerged from the Raptor, she was pleased to find two former members of her Presidential Security Service waiting to greet them alongside Colonel Tigh. Eric and Jacob, both fiercely loyal to her, had enlisted in the military rather than serve Baltar after she lost the election. 

“Madam President,” Colonel Tigh said, snapping to attention, as did the two guards. 

“At ease, Colonel,” she sighed, waving a tired hand at the trio. “I haven’t been the president in quite some time now.”

Tigh walked over to stand beside her, speaking quietly. “How is he?” 

She shook her head, then rested a hand on his arm sympathetically. “He’s not good, Saul.” She knew how close the two men were. “At least now we’re in the right place to help him.”

Tigh's jaw jumped as he visibly fought back emotion. He nodded once, then waved over a guard. “Take Pres…Ms. Roslin to the Admiral’s quarters. She’ll be staying there for the duration.”

Laura jerked her head up, eyes widening in surprise. “Oh, no Colonel, that’s not necessary. Guest quarters will be fine.”

Saul emitted a short bark of laughter. “The old man would kick my ass if I didn’t put you in his rack.”

Laura glared at the Colonel but judged it best not to argue in front of the others. She only made a mental note to check the availability of guest quarters later so that she would have a place to go if - no, _when_ Bill was well enough to return to his own quarters.

For now, with one parting look towards the Raptor where Bill's gurney was still being unfastened, she allowed the appointed guard to take her bag and lead her from the hangar bay. She would have prefered to follow Bill to the Life Station, but Cottle had told her in no uncertain terms that until he was done with his tests, she would only be in the way.

"You won't be any use to me if you stand there all night doing nothing but worrying, and then pass out from exhaustion when I could actually use a nurse to watch him. Go sit down and eat some noodles." Those had been his parting words just before they had docked. Laura had reluctantly agreed, but on the condition that a word would be sent to her immediately if there was even the smallest change in Bill's condition.

***

Bill's quarters were even more inviting than she remembered, no doubt benefiting by the comparison to her current living situation. The stacks of books and comfortable sofa called to her, but she wasn't there for her own enjoyment. A shower, she decided. Hopefully the hot water would relax her enough that she could try to sleep until the doctor called her to Life Station. Cottle was right; she would need her rest if she was going to be of any use to Bill. Dropping her bag on the desk, she removed from it what she needed and went into the head.

Thirty minutes later, and cleaner than she had been in months, she returned to the desk. She had changed out of the jeans and button up shirt she had chosen for the picnic that wasn’t to be, and into her long red skirt and matching wrap. Bill had said he liked the colour on her the last time they were together. Maybe it would bring him luck.

Taking her bag over to the closet, she hung up the rest of her tiny wardrobe, sliding her hands between Bill’s uniforms to create a small gap between his duty blues and dress grays. Once hung, her sad assortment of clothing seemed forlorn and a little out of place, just as she herself felt, alone in Bill’s quarters after so many months away. She really hoped she wouldn’t be there long enough to get used to it.

Unpacking accomplished, she gathered the essays she’d brought along into the crook of her elbow, then set the empty bag on the floor of the closet and closed the door.

Her shower, while pleasant, had failed to relax her, and she knew without trying that falling asleep was just about as likely as suddenly sprouting wings. Any sort of rest was just going to have to wait until she knew Bill would be okay. She may as well try to get some work done in the meantime - the graded essays could be sent back to Tory on the next supply run, assuming she herself wasn’t heading back by then.

After a quick detour to the head to find her glasses, she returned with the essays to Bill’s desk. Taking a seat behind it, she set the pile of papers at her left elbow and selected one off the top. 

***

It was eerie, walking through the halls of Galactica during the night cycle, particularly now that they were down to a skeleton crew even during the day. In previous visits, Laura had always been accompanied by her personal guard, the Admiral, or someone acting in his stead, but now, as befitted her reduction in status, she rushed through the halls alone, half-convinced there was a Cylon waiting to jump out at her from around each darkened corner.

Cottle had finally called four hours after their arrival. By that time Laura had finished marking her essays, snacked on some freeze-dried rations she found on the service cart, and eventually fallen asleep on the couch with a book. The comm, when it finally rang, scared her out of several years of her life, both the loud, now-unfamiliar noise, and the moment of absolute certainty that it would not be good news.

It wasn’t, but it wasn’t the awful news she feared either. Bill’s condition was unchanged. Dr. Cottle had some test results, but he wanted to discuss them with her in person.

She was out of breath when she arrived at Life Station, having been nearly jogging by the end of her journey. Cottle looked up from his desk at her arrival. “Don’t worry, he’s not going anywhere,” he said, jerking his head towards his lone patient, now tucked into a proper hospital bed and hooked up to any number of quietly pulsing machines.

“How is he?” she asked, going over to stand beside him, setting the book she was carrying down by his feet. He didn’t look any different: still too silent, still too motionless. She reached through the bedrails and picked up his hand. Cottle joined her, standing on the other side of the bed.

“I wish I had a better answer for that question. Best I can guess is he’s had some kind of stroke.”

Laura’s heart plummeted. “A stroke?” she repeated. Her grandfather had a stroke when she was a girl. One day he had been an active, intelligent, outgoing man who liked nothing more than taking his young granddaughters fishing, or hiking in the woods. The next he was completely paralyzed on one side of his body, and had lost his ability to speak. He never really recovered. What the stroke didn’t take from him, depression did, and he died less than a year later, a broken shell of his former self.

But, Bill didn’t look like her grandfather had. His face wasn’t drooping, but was that just because he was unconscious and lying down?

“Now don’t look so freaked out,” Cottle cautioned. “I didn’t say, it was a stroke, just that’s my best guess based on the scans. There are definitely changes in his brain that could indicate tissue death…but it’s not like anything I’ve seen before."

_Tissue death._ Laura did not like the sound of that.

”Are there any further tests you can run to help determine the cause?” she asked, her hands gripping the bed rails.

“Not with the equipment available,” Cottle replied, lighting a cigarette. “At least not until he wakes up, if he wakes up. That will tell us more than anything else.”

“ _When_ he wakes up,” Laura corrected him without averting her eyes from Bill. “He will wake up.”

“Well, you’re the prophet,” Cottle grunted. After a pause he continued in a kinder tone: “Most probably he will wake up since clearly his brain is still functioning, he breathes on his own and there’s nothing wrong with his heart. But it certainly won’t be tonight.” He pointed at the IV drip attached to Bill’s arm. “Because of the head injury, it’s best to keep him out of it for a while and make sure there’s no swelling on his brain before we start lowering his medication. _Then_ he might wake up.”

Laura nodded her understanding.

“Do you mind if I stay here a while anyway?” she asked.

“Suit yourself,” Cottle replied. “Call for me if any alerts go off. If you decide to go to sleep, which I recommend that you do at some point, get Jacob outside to move in here. Pull the curtain around him before you go.”

After a few more minutes at his desk, and a quick, almost accidental squeeze of her shoulder on his way by, Cottle left her and Bill alone, a trail of smoke following him out the door. 

"Alone at last," she joked, or tried to, but her voice failed to convey the light-hearted tone she was going for. Instead it came out faint and high pitched and she swallowed hard on the sob that threatened to follow.

No. Frakking _no_. She would not let fear or doubt show in her voice again. For all she knew, Bill could hear her every word, even if he didn't remember it later when he woke up. She herself had hazy impressions of people talking reassuringly to her when she was in the worst throes of her cancer and while she couldn't remember what they said, the fact that people had been there - Bill chief among them - had been a comfort to her. If all she could do now was return the favour, she would do that much.

She opened her mouth to speak, closed it again, then walked across the room, picking up a chair by its arms and setting it firmly by Bill's side. "So, Colonel Tigh insisted I stay in your quarters, quite suggestively as a matter of fact, though I don't know what he thought that would accomplish while you're in here. But since I'm there, I've helped myself to some reading material. I hope it's one you like." She sat, retrieved her glasses from the neckline of her top and slid them on, then picked up the book she had left on the foot of his bed. Opening it in her lap, she began to read.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty! Rise and shine." Someone touched Laura’s shoulder and she jolted awake, the book in her lap tumbling to the floor. Looking around, she discovered Dr. Cottle had returned, now with Lee Adama in tow.

"Doctor, I thought you were going to sleep," she said, rubbing her neck, stiff from her awkward sleeping position.

"I did, young lady, and apparently so did you. It's oh-six thirty," he informed her as he walked past on his way to the supply cabinet.

Startled, she looked to her watch to discover he was correct. How had she slept all night sitting up?

"Good morning, Madam President," Lee said from the other side of his father's bed.

She rolled her eyes. "People really have to stop calling me that," she said, standing, stretching, then walking back and forth a bit to wake up her cramped muscles.

"To many of us, you'll always be the president," Lee said, and from behind her, Cottle harrumphed in agreement. "How's dad? Thank you for sitting with him."

“He hasn’t stirred,” Laura replied, glancing at Cottle, “But I believe right now that’s intentional.”

Cottle took a puff out of his cigarette as he looked at the monitors Bill had been hooked up to, his face inscrutable. “I’ll run some more scans today and if the images look good and there's no swelling, I’ll start lowering the medication,” he explained without lifting his eyes from the screens. “Until then he probably won't move, but after that we should expect him to gradually regain consciousness.”

_ And what if he doesn't? _ Laura wanted to ask, but she pushed the thought aside, refusing even to acknowledge the possibility. Instead, her eyes met Lee's over the bed and she forced a smile that she hoped to be reassuring.

The smile he returned was uncertain and she knew it probably mirrored her own, despite her attempt at appearing optimistic.

“Does anyone actually know what happened?” Lee asked after a short pause before the silence could turn awkward. “Was anyone with him?”

Laura shook her head. Why hadn’t she gone to meet him at the airfield? As if Bill would have cared whether she had tidied up in her tent before his arrival or not.

“He was alone,” Laura replied, managing to keep her voice even. “As far as I know, nobody saw him until he was found lying on the ground…unconscious.”

“Is it possible he was attacked?”

Laura paused. She had to admit that was a thought she hadn’t even entertained – not now when it seemed they had at last managed to lose the Cylons. Besides, apart from the head wound Bill had received when he fell, there were no outward signs of struggle. She glanced at Cottle, hoping he would weigh in.

The doctor seemed to take his cue and cleared his throat before replying: “At this point we can’t rule anything out, but if that were the case, it would have to have been a carefully planned surprise attack with a clean knock-out. There’s no bruising anywhere to indicate that there was a fight.”

Laura watched as Lee’s jaw clenched and she knew without asking that he would be making more inquiries soon if no other cause could be determined. She couldn’t blame him for it either. It was what he knew how to do.

Attending the sick…that was what  _ she _ knew how to do, though she had hoped she’d never have to again.

***

Laura and Lee passed as pleasant a morning as could be expected having breakfast around Bill's bed and catching up. Both of them included Bill in the conversation -  _ "Right, Dad?", "Don't you think so, Bill?" _ \- and while, of course, he never responded, they both proceeded as though he had. If Lee wondered why or how the former president came to be so involved in his father's care, he was discreet enough not to ask. Perhaps he didn't wonder at all; perhaps it was all too obvious. Lee was called back to Pegasus after a couple of hours, but he promised (Bill, not Laura, but really her too) he would stop by again as soon as he could, probably that evening, possibly with his wife. Laura had forgotten he had even gotten married, a sign of how disparate the lives of all those on the planet had become from those still in space.

Shortly thereafter, Cottle banished her while he performed another round of tests, so she went back to  Bill's quarters for a while and attempted to write some lesson plans for Tory to use in her absence. She didn’t make much progress, thinking instead about Lee's earlier comments. While it was true Bill had been alone when he collapsed, at least as far as anyone knew, the airfield was at most a twenty minute walk from where he was found. It might be worth talking to the ground crew working when he arrived; maybe they noticed something amiss. And now that she was considering it, it was extremely odd that no one saw Bill while he was walking to her tent. The settlement was so overcrowded that privacy was practically a lost concept.  _ Someone  _ must have seen Bill along his way. As she walked back to Life Station, she decided to speak to Lee the next time she saw him about launching some kind of investigation. That was assuming Bill didn't wake up soon and tell them what happened, which would obviously be preferable.

Dr Cottle was looking at scan photos on a light box when she entered the room. "Any news?" she asked, walking up to stand beside him.

So deep in concentration was he that he hadn't noticed her arrival, and he jumped at the sound of her voice. "Godsdamnit, woman, don't sneak up on me like that," he growled.

She didn't respond, just waited, eyebrow raised, for her update.

Cottle actually laughed at her. "Now there's a face I remember without fondness. Get down to business, Jack. All right then. The slight swelling on his brain from yesterday has gone down to the point where I'm comfortable starting to wean him off the sedatives. But see these here?" He pointed at several dark spots, like polka dots on the brain. "These worry me."

Laura looked warily at the dots but couldn’t say they really told her anything definitive.She did have to admit, however, that they looked worrisome. What little she knew of brain imaging, or at least what she thought she knew, was that activity usually manifested itself in bright colors. These spots were dark.

“What do you think they mean?” she asked the doctor, glancing behind her at Bill who still lay in his bed in deep sedation.

“That’s the thing,” Cottle replied, reaching for a cigarette. He toyed with it for a moment before lighting it, his eyes never leaving the brain scan. Only after getting the first drag of his cigarette, he finally continued: “This kind of pattern here is not consistent with anything I’m familiar with. Their location could be indicative of possible memory loss, which is not unusual after a stroke, but these patterns aren't exactly what I would expect to find after a stroke. There’s something else that’s not adding up.”

Laura had caught only part of what Cottle had said after the words “memory loss”.

“I considered the possibility of a tumor as well because that could cause any number of other symptoms depending on its location,” the doctor went on. “But there’s nothing in the scans indicating the presence of any foreign mass.”

“Memory loss?” Laura repeated, picking up on his earlier words. “As in, he wouldn’t remember anything that happened immediately before the fall, or…some kind of a more substantial deterioration?”

She remembered her grandfather again after his stroke. Sharp as his mind had been until then, he'd had trouble recognizing even his nearest and dearest at first.

“Maybe that," Cottle answered. "Maybe something more global. Maybe nothing. We’ll just have to wait until he wakes up.” The rest of that thought –  _ if he wakes up _ – remained unspoken but was clearly understood by them both.

“So maybe memory issues,” Laura said, almost to herself. “We can deal with that. We can deal with anything as long as he’s alive.” Between she and Lee, and whatever they could find out from talking to people in the settlement, surely they’d be able to fill in any blanks he might have about the incident.

“What else?” she asked. “Is there any possibility of physical impairment? Paralysis?”

Cottle shook his head. “He’s reacting the way he should to reflex tests, but that’s something else we’ll only know for certain when he’s conscious.”

“Okay,” she said. “Okay. What can I do?” She forced a determined smile. “Nurse Roslin reporting for duty.”

Cottle chuckled. “I lowered his medication dose just before you came in, so it will probably be a few hours at least before we should see any change. Just talk to him, hold his hand. Pretty much what you’ve been doing. Give him something to wake up for.”

***

Life Station experienced a small flurry of activity that afternoon. A marine dropped a dumbbell on his foot and required a cast. A woman who worked in the ship’s galley spilled scalding water down her chest and abdomen. Most frightening was a deckhand and an accident involving a Viper engine that left the man cursing in pain and blood flowing freely on to the floor. She did what she could to help, and still Bill slept.

“That wouldn’t have happened if Tyrol was still running the deck,” Cottle grumbled after the man was escorted out by his crewmates, arm bandaged from wrist to elbow. “Damned carelessness.” Laura hummed in agreement, but found it difficult to summon much concern.

It had been hours. Why wasn’t Bill waking up?

To get her mind off Bill, Laura began mopping the blood off the floor, but her eyes kept drifting from her task to the bed where he still lay motionless. Once or twice she fancied she saw some small movement in the corner of her eye, but every time she turned to look, nothing had changed.

Saul came in at the end of his shift asking for news, but Laura had none to impart.

“He’ll wake up,” the Colonel said with determination. “Mark my words.”

Laura could tell he had been hitting the flask.

“I know he will,” she replied, placing a steadying hand on his arm. They had not always been friends, her and the Colonel, but on this she knew they were united – unlike the last time Bill’s life had been hanging in the balance.

Just then, Cottle, who had sat down in a corner after dispatching his last patient of the afternoon and who only moments ago had looked almost ready to hand in his resignation, suddenly perked up and sprang to his feet. When Laura’s eyes followed his line of vision, she could see what had propelled him. Bill’s hand had definitely just twitched.

“Is he waking up?” Saul asked, as they all gathered around the bed.

No one answered him, as the answer quickly became self-evident when Bill moaned and turned his head so the injured side was facing up.

“Bill? Open your eyes.” Laura said softly, picking up his hand and rubbing it gently between hers. Cottle moved around Saul to the other side of the bed and carefully opened his patient’s eyelids, briefly shining a light in each one.

“Still unconscious,” was the doctor’s assessment. “But probably not for much longer.”

“That’s good, right?” Laura asked. “He’s waking up right around when you thought he would?”

Cottle only shrugged. “We’ll see.” He shuffled off, back to his desk.

Laura met Saul’s eyes across the bed and shrugged. They would see, indeed.

***

_ The man had been living in darkness for all of eternity; it was what he knew, and he was content with his place in the universe. _

_ But. _

_ Sometimes he would dream, dream in flashes of riotous colour: blue, and green, and bright, fluttering red, and he wondered what it would be like to live in that dream world. Sometimes he wanted it; sometimes he craved it. Most of the time he feared it. It felt like deception, and always his darkness was truthful. It was easy; colour was hard. Light brought only pain. He knew that, even as he longed for it; desired it, even as he tried to stay safe. _

_ But then something changed. The darkness started to creep away on its own, slowly, gradually, abandoning him and before he knew what was happening, he was living in a world of gray. Gray was the cousin of light, the forebearer of colour. _

_ "Open your eyes,” the gray urged. _

_ He was frightened. He wanted his realm of darkness back, so he ignored the voice and hid from the gray, or, at least, he tried to. Always the gray found him, made him look, made him feel, made him wonder. _

_ “Open your eyes,” it sang. _

_ And so, he did. _


	5. Chapter 5

“His eyelids are fluttering,” Laura breathed, raising her own eyes to Cottle briefly before looking down at Bill again.

“It would seem he’s regaining consciousness,” the doctor confirmed, lowering his cigarette. He cleared his throat and let his eyes travel from Laura to Saul, both standing by the bed in nervous anticipation. “Perhaps it would be best if the both of you stepped back a little bit,” he said after a moment’s consideration. “Whatever the long-term effects of his present condition are, I expect he will wake up with some confusion about his whereabouts. Until we know more about his state of mind, I would recommend we don't subject him to too much stimulation at once.”

Laura glanced at Saul and watched as the Colonel nodded his head, accepting Cottle’s orders without argument.

Reluctantly, Laura followed his example and nodded as well, giving Bill’s hand a final squeeze before she followed the Colonel to the other side of the room – close enough to still have a good view of the patient, but far enough to melt into the background and not be immediately seen from the bed.

“Admiral Adama,” Cottle addressed his commanding officer in a calm voice as soon as the bedside had been cleared. Bill stirred slightly but did not open his eyes nor respond.

“Bill,” the doctor tried a more familiar name. “If you can hear me, try to open your eyes.”

This time Bill’s response was an audible groan. His eyes, however, remained closed.

Just then, Laura could feel Saul’s hand gripping her arm. “He’s going to wake up,” he whispered jubilantly. "What did I tell you."

Laura nodded quietly, attempting to reach the XO’s level of optimism, but only managing a soft whimper which she then quickly muffled by covering her mouth. Something was wrong. She was suddenly, inexplicably certain of it. She didn’t know how or why, but something had filled her with a terrible foreboding.

Cottle, in the meanwhile, continued his attempts to engage Bill by speaking to him in a low, steady voice, pausing occasionally for short intervals to watch for his reactions.

If Laura had to pick one word to describe it, she would have settled on ‘reluctant’. For some reason, Bill seemed reluctant to open his eyes, even though it appeared, based on the stirring and the occasional groans, that he could hear Dr. Cottle.

The doctor's patience, too, was growing thin.

“Well, suit yourself,” Cottle said at last, exhaling loudly as he turned to look at Laura and Saul, turning his back on Bill for a moment.

From there, everything happened in quick succession. Just as Cottle had turned away with a shrug of his shoulders, Laura’s eyes glided from him back to Bill, right in time to see his eyes suddenly fly open, and with it his whole body seemed to jolt as if he had suddenly woken up from a vivid dream.

Reacting on instinct rather than conscious thought, Laura responded to the motion by stepping forward before she could recall herself. It was only a small movement, stopped short as she collected herself, but it was enough to bring Bill’s eyes upon herself.

A beat passed. He looked. She tried to smile. He blinked. He stared. And then...he _recoiled_.

***

_Too much, too much, too much. The light hurt his eyes; there were colours everywhere, sounds everywhere, pain in his head, pain, thirsty, so thirsty, what had he done?_

_A woman coming toward him, bright, fluttering red. Stay away! He shrank back, turned his head. Stayawaystayawaystayaway_

_Now a man, from the other direction. He tried to yell, but his throat was too dry. He tried to flee, but his muscles wouldn’t comply. Shaking, he was shaking, shaking apart._

_The man stopped beside his bed, with more words, more light, but no, no, no air. He needed more air._

_And then._

_The gray._

_The gray pulled at him, and he went willingly, gratefully into it._

***

Dr. Cottle plunged the syringe into Bill’s IV line, and within moments, the shaking and hyperventilating stopped and Bill’s eyes drifted closed again. Cottle went to work examining readouts and performing a physical exam. Laura and Saul just stared at each other.

“What the frak was that?” Saul finally asked.

Cottle looked up from his patient. “That was a start,” he said. “Look, Colonel, the Admiral has been through a traumatic experience and we have no way of knowing how much he remembers, or how the changes in his brain have affected his mental state. Many, many patients panic when they first wake up after something like this. Sometimes the kindest thing we can do for them, and the best thing for their recovery, is to let them sleep.”

“Okay,” Laura said, nodding. “Okay. A start, yes. It’s a start. How is he, doctor? Ah, physically, I mean.” As she spoke, the image of Bill shrinking back in bed at the sight of her played through her mind like a video on repeat. The look in his eye reminded her of some of the children in her school down on the planet, the children with parents who weren’t deserving of the title, children who were terrified of all adults, of her, of what she might do if they disappointed her. They were afraid of her, and that’s what she saw in Bill’s eyes. Fear.

“We didn’t cause any damage if that’s what you mean,” Cottle said. “His heart rate was through the roof during the time he was awake, but you probably figured that out. The sedative I just gave him will wear off slowly, but this time I’ll let him wake up on his own. When he’s ready.” His last words were accompanied by a glare directed at Laura. She didn’t need the directive; she never wanted to see that look on Bill’s face again.

Saul shuffled past her and went to stand beside by the bed. He looked at Bill for long moments, face inscrutable, until reaching out and squeezing his friend’s shoulder. He left Life Station without another word.

“You may as well take a break too,” Cottle told her. “He’s going to be out for a few hours at least.”

Laura shook her head. “You go. You’ve been here all day; you need to eat. If he’s not going to wake up for a while, this is the best time.”

Cottle couldn’t argue with her logic, so he left after eliciting a promise to dispatch the guard outside to find him at any sign that Bill could be stirring. And even so, he made sure to show her how to add more sedative to the IV if it became necessary. After one last quick check of the monitors, he left them alone.

Still shaken by Bill’s reaction, Laura sank down on a chair by the bed as soon as Cottle was gone. He looked peaceful again, as if the moment he had woken up had just been a nightmare – his or hers, Laura wasn’t sure – and now things were back to normal again, except that Laura could not put the look of fear on Bill’s face out of her mind. He had looked directly at her and been absolutely terrified.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Bill?” she hummed, reaching out to brush a few errant strands of hair off his forehead before letting her hand travel to the side of his face, her fingers absently mapping the familiar crevices of his worn cheeks. “It’s only me, you know.”

But perhaps, Laura thought as a hollow feeling settled in the pit of her stomach…perhaps he _didn’t_ know it was her.

Still, she continued talking to him in hushed tones, hoping that if her voice became familiar to him in his sleep, he would respond to her better when awake, no matter what his state of mind would be next time the sedation wore off.

After talking about her students for a while, she went on to tell Bill all about the cabin she had decided to build, describing it in minute detail until her own eyes started drooping from exhaustion.

“Well,” she sighed at last, stretching her back in her seat. “It looks like we’re both done for today.” She paused, as if waiting for a response, and then added. “If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to turn in tonight. I’m afraid my back can’t take another night on a chair.”

Another pause. Another silence.

"Good night, Bill."

With one more squeeze of Bill’s hand, Laura reluctantly got up and pulled the curtain around the bed. She would ask the guard to move inside while she looked for Cottle.


	6. Chapter 6

The man opened his eyes again. The room he was in was darker than before, but what little light there was still hurt his eyes and blurred his vision. He closed them again, and tried to use his other senses. Learn everything you can, without giving away your position - that was what he knew to do, though he couldn’t say how he knew it.

There was a quiet, steady beeping coming from somewhere above his head, and someone nearby was rustling papers. Distantly came the occasional rush of hydraulics, and underlying it all was the unrelenting hum of sort of ventilation system. The man could not quite place it, but he had his suspicions. He could be in an underground military base.

The stinging odour of antiseptic gel filled his sinuses when he inhaled through his nose, which made sense as he had already figured out he was in a medical unit. Underneath that, the stink of cigarette smoke was vaguely nauseating.

He turned his attention to his own body. He was thirsty, his mouth and throat so dry he didn’t think he could speak if he tried. His head hurt, the pain concentrated in his left temple, but it spread out from there, until his entire skull was gripped by fingers of titanium. There was a niggling in the back of his left hand, which worsened when he flexed his fingers under the thin blanket covering him. An IV line, he assumed. They were drugging him.

There was something else on his left hand too. A ring. It felt cool against his skin as he slid his thumb across the smooth metal. Why did he have it? He knew that a ring on this specific finger signified marriage, but he had no memory of ever marrying anyone. Could it be a trick? For now, the man decided to file it away as non-crucial information.

The rest of his limbs seemed in working order, though weakened, as he tested them one by one with small, careful movements designed to not call attention to himself before he was ready. His feet were cold and bare. That could be problematic when he tried to escape.

Someone coughed and furniture creaked. Footsteps approached.

It was time.

Steeling himself, he opened his eyes. A man in a white coat stood beside him, examining a monitor filled with pulsating coloured lines. The doctor was an old man: white-haired, soft. He wouldn’t present a problem.

The doctor turned to him, his eyes widening when he realized his patient was watching him.

“Finally awake, eh? Welcome back, Bill,” the doctor said.

_ Bill? _ Who was Bill? The man did not know.

“How are you feeling?” the doctor kept talking to him as if to a friend. “I can see that you’re calmer now.”

It had to be a trick. The man had never seen the white haired doctor before. He could not be a friend. The man would not reply. He would not give anything away.

The doctor paused, scrutinizing him. The man stared back, unblinking.

“Do you know where you are, Bill?”

_ Bill _ . Again with that name. The doctor seemed to think  _ he _ was Bill, or wanted him to think that he was, but that could not be. The man would know if his name was Bill.

_ Play along _ , his instincts said.  _ Don’t give anything away until you’re ready to escape. _

“Hospital,” he rasped, the word almost stuck in his dry throat.

“Which hospital?” the doctor asked, his eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly.

The man did not know. He turned his head to the side to search for clues, but winced in pain. He must have been hit with a heavy object. But for what purpose?

He heard the doctor again, this time apparently mumbling to himself. Something about pain medication.

He would not accept any - couldn’t afford to be numbed again. And he would have to get rid of the IV drip, too.

He needed water, but what would the doctor give him if he asked?

The question became moot when the doctor disappeared from view for a moment and he heard the sound of rushing water. When he returned to the man’s side, he carried a small glass, holding it out when he reached the side of the bed. “You’re probably as dry as a Gemenese desert. Go easy, too much will make you sick.”

The man eyed it suspiciously, but he knew he had no choice but to accept the risk. His thirst was too great. He pulled his right arm out from under the blanket and reached for the water. His hand shook visibly and he cursed his body for displaying his weakness to the enemy.

“Little shaky,” the doctor commented. “That’s a combination of dehydration, the meds I’ve got you on, and the fact that you’ve been in bed for nearly two days. It’ll pass.”

_ Two days?  _ He’d been here for two days? Where was he before that? He couldn’t recall.

The doctor didn’t let go of the glass until the man had a solid grip on it. Carefully, he brought it to his lips and took a sip, instinctively understanding the doctor was correct about drinking it slowly. It was only water, nothing more, but it tasted like ambrosia from the gods. He took another couple of sips, then let the doctor take it from him.

“More in a few minutes after we see how it settles,” the doctor said. “Anything else you need?”

The man considered the offer. What could he ask for that might aid in his escape, but wouldn’t sound suspicious?

“Feet cold,” he muttered, his voice clearer now.

The doctor snorted. “A little delicate, are we?” He disappeared from view once again, then reappeared with another blanket, which he arranged at the foot of the bed. “I’ll call Laura in a bit and ask her to bring some socks down with her when she comes.”

The man’s head jerked up, sending pulses of pain through his skull.  _ Laura _ . His heart raced. Who was  _ Laura _ ?

***

Laura awoke to the insistent ringing of the comm unit. Before reaching for the receiver, she checked the clock on the side table. 2:30 am. For a moment, as sleep still lingered in her eyes, she only stared at the time, unable to compute what was happening. Then, as her mind caught up with her body, the realization of where she was finally jolted her fully awake.  _ Bill _ .

Something must have happened or she wouldn’t be getting a call at this hour. She grabbed the receiver while scrambling to her feet, almost tripping on the sheets that had tangled around her legs.

“What happened?” she breathed without waiting for the caller to identify himself.

“He woke up,” Cottle’s voice replied. Laura waited for him to continue but he did not.

“And?” she prompted. She could feel her heart thumping faster.

“He seems a little…disoriented,” the doctor replied. “But I’ve not been able to speak to him enough yet to determine his mental status for certain.”

“Did he…” Laura paused, her mind flashing back to the shock of the previous afternoon. “Did he seem calmer now, when he woke up?”

“I would say so, yes,” Cottle replied, a little hesitant. “Or at least better in control of himself.”

_Better in control of himself?_ Laura repeated to herself. What did that mean?

“Should I come over?” she asked out loud, biting her lower lip. Would her presence help or make it worse?

“I suppose you’ll come either way,” Cottle replied dryly. Laura could hear him lighting a cigarette. “And when you do, bring some socks with you. Apparently the Admiral’s feet are cold.”

Laura smiled. The thought of Bill’s feet being cold felt somehow comforting, familiar. It was something tangible she could help him with.

“I’ll bring socks,” she promised, allowing her rigid shoulders to relax a little. Before she could hang up, Cottle spoke again.

“Just don’t expect too much, Laura,” he said in a cautionary tone. “I have a feeling Bill might be more confused than he’s letting on. We should tread carefully with him for now.”

Laura nodded. Then, remembering Cottle could not see her, she cleared her throat and assured him she understood. After finishing the call, she placed the receiver back into its cradle and reached for her clothes, realizing only then that her hands were trembling.

Gods how she wished this nightmare would be over already.

Laura arrived at Life Station a short time later, bearing not only socks, but also Bill’s heavy brown robe and a pair of boots, in case he wanted to try going for a short walk.

The curtain was pulled around Bill’s bed when she walked in. Eyeing it suspiciously, she continued past to find Cottle at his desk. “Hi,” she said, setting her encumbrances down on a chair. “How is he?”

Cottle glanced at the unrequested items, then back to Laura. “About the same as he was a few minutes ago when I called. Weak, tired. Quiet.” He stood slowly, as if pained. Jack Cottle had always seemed to Laura to transcend age, but this situation was full of reminders that all of them were nothing more than fragile human beings.

“Can I see him?” Had he requested the curtain be closed? Was he hiding from her? The thought seemed ludicrous on the face of it, but she still hadn’t forgotten the fear on his face that afternoon.

Cottle nodded. “If he’s still awake.”

Immediately she started for his bed, taking the heavy pair of socks with her, but Cottle stopped her with a hand gripping her forearm. “Laura. Don’t push him. Just…don’t take anything he says or doesn’t say personally.”

That sounded ominous, but she nodded, walked over and pushed past the curtain, taking her usual seat by the bed.

Bill was lying down, eyes closed, looking much like he had for most of the past two days. At first she thought he was asleep, but when she touched him lightly on the arm, his eyes flew open and he turned his head to face her.

“Laura,” he said gruffly.

Quickly recovering from the surprise of Bill opening his eyes so suddenly, Laura let out a shaky breath and then ventured a tentative smile. She almost reached for his hand, too, but Cottle’s words returned to her mind to still her.  _ Don’t push him _ , she reminded herself.

Instead she sat up straight, giving Bill an encouraging nod as if she was addressing a student who had just spelled a difficult word correctly for the first time.

“That’s right,” she replied, finally finding her voice. It hadn’t escaped her that Bill had not returned her smile. Despite getting her name right, Laura wasn’t sure if there was true recognition in his eyes. Instead, he seemed to be eyeing her with a mixture of interest and something else that was more difficult to name.

“Did Cottle tell you I was coming?” she asked after a short silence.

“Cottle…” he repeated in a raspy voice. “…told me, yes,” he finished quickly after a slight pause.

“Bill,” Laura began. She simply had to ask. “Do you know who I am?”

 


	7. Chapter 7

He had not meant to say her name out loud. When he opened his eyes and saw her sitting there, it fell from his lips unbidden, as if it were something he had said many times before. 

Now the man stared at her, not knowing how to answer what should be a simple question. Should he know who she was? The doctor - Cottle, as he had just learned - had called her by her first name only, as if all of them were well acquainted. That could be a trick, a ruse designed to gain his trust in order to – what? What was he even doing here? What secrets was he protecting?

And now this woman, this Laura of the dark red hair and probing green eyes, was watching him, head tilted slightly to the side, waiting for an answer.

“No,” he said, closing his eyes again and turning his head away from her. She was beautiful, and her name tasted spicy sweet on his tongue, but that didn’t mean he could trust her. In fact, it probably meant the opposite.

“Bill,” she sighed. “Gods, what happened to you?” 

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t even if he wanted to.

”How are you feeling?” the redhead asked soon after, apparently not even expecting a response to her earlier question. "Does your head hurt?" Her voice was soothing, easy on the ears. He could not let it lull him into a false sense of security. She must know what had happened to his head.

He met her eyes, half expecting her to look away, but she returned his gaze unflinching. Clearly, she had been well trained - was probably trying to get information out of him even now.

He did not answer her question.

“I heard your feet were cold, so I brought some socks,” she spoke again after a silence. There was a smile on her face now, but he thought if felt forced. Other emotions seemed to be kept carefully at bay behind those green eyes.

He did need the socks, however. The floor looked cold and the man didn’t know what might wait for him beyond this room.

“Thank you,” he spoke at last.

His head was throbbing in pain and he felt thirsty again, but could not trust his hands to reach for the glass that had been left on the bedside table. They might shake and he could not appear weak in front of this woman - this...Laura.

_You're lying in a bed, unable to get up. They know you are weak. You're at their mercy._

He silenced the inner voice. He would rest a little longer, try to gather as much intel as he could, and then he would escape.

"Did you want me to...hmm..." The woman shrugged awkwardly, and gestured to the end of the bed with the socks in her hand.

She wanted to dress him, like he was a child? Part of him wanted to grab her, haul her to him, prove to her he was not a man to be coddled. Another part of him recoiled at the idea of her treacherous hands anywhere near him. He allowed some heat to sear his glare, and called it anger.

The woman's forced smile faltered and faded away. "Maybe I'll just leave them here for the doctor," she said lightly, setting them on the bedside table. "I brought your robe too, and some boots. Maybe later, when Dr. Cottle says it's okay, we can go for a little walk."

That drew his attention. A walk? A walk would be an opportunity for escape. In contrast to the steel he sensed was at her core, physically the woman was slender, almost delicate, like she didn't always get enough to eat. He could easily overpower her. 

She had noticed his interest in her suggestion. "Would you like that?" she asked, head tipping again to the side. Her hair glinted in the fluorescent light.

He nodded carefully, and made a mental addition to his plan. Learn more about this place and its people, recover his strength, and befriend this woman. _Laura._ He would gain her trust, allow her to take him for a walk, like he was some pathetic, leashed creature, and then he would make his escape.

"Would you like some water?" the woman asked him.

He forced his lips to bow upward. "Yes. Thank you," he said.

***

”Something’s wrong,” Laura told Cottle in a hushed tone as soon as she reached his desk. She had drawn the curtains around Bill’s bed when she had left his bedside, but she knew the flimsy pieces of fabric did little to obstruct sound. This was a conversation she would rather keep between herself and Cottle.

The doctor looked up from his papers at the sound of her voice and ran a hand down his face. Laura could tell he was tired. After a beat, however, he seemed to pull himself together and pointed towards the hatch, indicating they should step outside to continue their talk.

Laura glanced behind her back at the curtains surrounding Bill's bed and then back at Dr. Cottle. She nodded her agreement.

They moved in unison over to the corridor and as soon as the hatch had clanged shut behind them, Laura let the words she had been holding back pour out of her:

“What are we going to do? He doesn’t know who I am, I don’t think he really knows where he is, and frankly…” She paused for breath, reluctant to voice what she feared to be true. She looked at Cottle for support but his face remained inscrutable. Sighing in resignation, she finished: “I’m not sure he even knows who _he_ is.”

Cottle remained silent for a moment.

“Am I over-reacting?” Laura asked cautiously. She hoped that she was. Perhaps Bill was just…what was the word Cottle had used? Confused. Perhaps he was simply confused after having been out for so long and it would all start coming back to him within the next few hours.

“I don't know," Cottle finally spoke. "I’m going to interview him in the morning to get a better idea of what’s going on in his brain, and until then I'd rather not draw too many conclusions.”

His words were not hopeless, but the fact that he now seemed to be looking at Laura with some degree of sympathy only managed to add to the sinking feeling she had been harboring since first sitting down to talk to Bill. At the same time, though, his apparent pity made Laura stand up a little straighter.

“Nevertheless, I'd like to know your current estimation,” she replied more formally, reining in her personal sentiments as her mind began to work on the larger implications of the Admiral’s present incapacitation. What would it mean for the fleet? Or the safety of the people on the planet? If she was still the president, what would…

“Amnesia,” Cottle replied, interrupting Laura’s thoughts. “But it’s too early to pin down what type exactly. I need to talk to him more.”

_Amnesia?_ Laura thought that was something that only happened in fiction – books, movies, bad television - not in real life, and certainly not to men like Bill. No one is invincible, of course, but if she had to pick the person who came closest, she... _Not helpful, Laura._

"Okay," she said. "Okay. After you finish your interview, I'd like you to report to me, Colonel Tigh, and Commander Adama. Bill is the Admiral of the Fleet and the main defense of the planet; this is about more than just one man’s health.” She knew she sounded coldblooded, but Bill of all people, would appreciate the need to protect the people. “Would eight a.m. give you enough time?"

Cottle understood her better than most; he didn’t even blink. "Better make it ten. He needs his sleep, so do I, and frankly, so do you. You look like a slight breeze would knock you on your ass."

“Well fortunately for me, there’s no wind on Galactica,” she retorted sharply, but he was right. They were both running on fumes, and of course the more Bill slept, the better for his recovery. Two hours wouldn’t make any difference to the bigger picture. “Ten is fine,” she added. “In the Admiral’s quarters.”

"Yes, ma'am," Cottle said, as always managing to make the honorific sound both mocking and affectionate. "Is that all, because if it is, I'm going to tuck the Admiral in, and station a guard for the rest of the night."

“That’s all,” she said. Cottle nodded and turned back to the hatch as she started down the corridor. 

***

Sleep mostly eluded her, as she’d known it would. She lay in Bill’s rack, breathing deeply of his still lingering scent, wrapping herself up in his sheets, drifting in and out of the borderland of sleep, her mind refusing to quiet long enough for her to complete the transition. Lost possibilities taunted her: what if she’d met Bill at the airfield; what if she had come to Galactica instead of him flying down; what if she’d never conceded the election; what if, what if…

_They dance following her second inauguration, slowly moving around the polished floor of the ballroom on Cloud 9. She’s wearing her long red skirt and his hands are tangled in her hair and the whole fleet is watching, but she doesn’t care because now they’re dancing alone by a lake, the water so clear it’s like looking through glass. “Do you know who I am, Bill?” she asks. “Do you know who I am, now?”_

_He looks down at her, his face blank, his eyes dark and cold. “No.”_

She jolted awake and threw back the blankets, shivering despite the temperature control. Enough. Enough of that. 

Tossing her nightgown aside, Laura stalked into the head and turned on the shower. The upcoming day was going to be difficult and Bill needed her to keep her emotions under control. Saul Tigh did not perform well under pressure, and Lee was too close to the situation to be objective. It was down to her to provide strong leadership. She would rise to the challenge again, as she always did.

After her shower, she dried off, then wrapped one towel around her head and another around her body. She had remembered something while she was washing her hair, something that would help get her in the right frame of mind to handle the trouble she feared was coming.

Now, where would Bill have put it?

She looked in every cluttered corner of the cabin, finally finding the battered cardboard box serving as a table for a stack of books. Moving the books aside, she opened the box, and took inventory of its contents: her three suits, some jewellery, her last remaining dregs of cosmetics, and a handful of photographs she didn’t want ruined on that horrible muddy planet.

She let her fingers slide over a picture of herself and Billy, taken on the day of the decommissioning - less than two years, and yet a whole lifetime ago. A ghost of a smile played on her lips as she allowed herself a brief moment of reminiscence. How little they both had known then of what lay ahead. In the picture he looked so young and wide-eyed, so innocent, and she…Laura shook her head, lowering the photo in her hands. She could not do this now. The other photographs she knew would only be more painful to look at. They were the ones of her family – the ones she had always carried with her – but she couldn’t bring herself to look at those faces now. There was no time to get sentimental.

Putting the photographs away, placing them gently back to the very bottom of the box where she would least likely see them by accident, she pulled out one of her suits instead and held it out in front of her. Laura had always liked the navy blue one and, if she was any judge, so had Bill. She would wear this one today. The others, she made room for in the closet by removing her more casual clothes and putting them in the box on top of the photographs. Pioneer schoolteacher Laura was not needed for now. It was time for the old Laura to re-emerge.


	8. Chapter 8

The man woke to find the doctor sitting by his bed again. When had he fallen asleep? Had they drugged him again? He eyed the white haired man warily and wondered briefly where the woman, Laura, was, if that even was her real name.

“Good morning,” the doctor spoke with what seemed to be affected cheerfulness. “Did you sleep well?”

After a moment’s consideration, the man replied in affirmative. If he was going to escape, he needed to at least appear to be cooperative.

“Good,” the doctor replied. The man noticed he was holding a chart and a pen. Was this a test? “And how are you feeling this morning?” the doctor continued pleasantly, seemingly oblivious to his thoughts.

“Been better,” the man replied before it occurred to him he actually had no memory of ever feeling better. But certainly he must have. The pain in his head had dulled a little but the man could not tell whether this was a real improvement or only the effect of the drugs he had been given.

"How's the noggin?" the doctor asked, as if reading his mind. A sudden chill washed over the man -  _ could  _ they read his mind? Probably unlikely, but he still would remain watchful for any signs.

"Better," he said to the doctor. Then, deciding on a test of his own, he asked, "You giving me drugs?"

The doctor nodded, as if the question was not unexpected. "A mild painkiller. A sedative last night to help you sleep."

The man held the doctor's eye. "No more."

The doctor snorted. "Okay, tough guy. We'll see how you get along without them."

That was easier than he expected. Too easy. His eyes narrowed and he picked up his left hand and held it out to the doctor. "Take it out," he demanded, jiggling his hand to indicate the IV line.

"Nope," the doctor said. "That's giving you fluids to keep you hydrated. It stays in until you're eating and drinking normally."

"So get me some food."

"Personality: surly as ever," the doctor remarked, exaggerating the action of making an note on his clipboard. "I'll call down for breakfast when we're done here. Let's start with something easy. What's your name?"

He knew that one, or at least he knew what they wanted him to think. "Bill."

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "I take it then, you remember last night, when we were calling you that." He made a note on the page. "Care to elaborate?"

The man didn't respond, and the doctor made another note. "How about your occupation?"

He was a soldier. That much he knew, knew without doubt. He also knew it would be dangerous to share that knowledge with the doctor. If they understood what he was capable of, they would be more cautious around him, reducing his opportunities for escape. "I don't know," the man said.

The doctor watched him closely, looking for signs of subterfuge, but he gave away nothing, looking straight ahead, face motionless.

Finally, they moved on. The doctor asked him a series of general knowledge questions - mathematics, history, science, literature - some exceedingly basic, others more specialized. Many he answered, others he was pleased to find he knew the answer, but kept it to himself, filing the information away for further examination of its implications. Other questions he did not know at all, and wondered if he ever had.

***

Saul was the first expected visitor to arrive in the Admiral’s quarters that morning a little before ten. He started noticeably at the sight of Laura sitting behind the desk, the suit she had chosen clearly a stark contrast to what she had lately been wearing.

“Madam President,” he greeted her with a slight nod.

Laura put down the book she had been reading and looked sternly at the Colonel over the rims of her glasses. When her look seemed to have no effect, she sighed and removed her glasses. “You really should stop calling me that,” she muttered, a half-hearted rebuke as she put her book away. Then, changing the subject, she looked at the Colonel again. “Is Commander Adama coming?”

“His Raptor just docked so he’ll be here any minute,” Saul replied, his shoulders relaxing a little.

He had barely finished his sentence when the hatch behind his back swung open and both Lee and Dr. Cottle stepped in, their faces grave. Laura had not been expecting good news, but even the small hope she had entertained that everything would look better in the morning began quickly fading away.

“Well?” she asked with bated breath, voicing the question she could also see written on Saul’s face.

"Good morning to you too," Cottle grunted as he handed her the report he had brought with him and then started lighting up a cigarette. Laura quickly scanned the first page and then turned over the next, flipping through the whole report until she reached the final conclusion. There the words “ _ Post-traumatic retrograde amnesia _ ” and “ _ Not currently fit for duty _ ” stood out from the text almost immediately.

_ Oh, gods. _

Laura covered her mouth as she read again the last part of the report.

“What?” the Colonel asked impatiently, stepping closer to the desk. Laura snapped the file shut and handed it over for Saul’s inspection, her eyes on Cottle.

“How bad is it?” she asked, her voice coming out in a higher pitch than she had intended.

“It’s not good,” the old doctor replied with the brutal honesty Laura had come to expect from him. “But it could be worse.”

Laura raised her eyebrow. “How?” she asked skeptically. “You’ve written there that he doesn’t seem to have any idea of who he is,” she pointed out, nodding towards the report that was now in Saul’s hands.

“As I said, it’s  _ not _ good,” Cottle replied dryly. “On the other hand, I have ascertained he is at least capable of retaining new information. He remembered us calling him Bill last night and he understood that the name belongs to him. He was also able to answer some other general questions that indicate that at least some parts of his brain do still function normally.”

"Right," Laura breathed. Unbeckoned, her mind suddenly flashed back to a night not so long ago. She thought of a slightly dishevelled, carefree Bill, his eyes smiling at her as they talked nonsense under the stars. Eyes that recognized her.

She shook her head, banishing the image away. Then she cleared her throat and looked first at Lee and then at Saul. “Right,” she repeated with more determination, squaring her shoulders. “What are we going to do?”

Lee responded first, addressing a question to Cottle. “Do you have any more insight into what might have happened to him?”

The doctor blew out a lungful of smoke before answering. "As I told Ms. Not-the-President over there, my best guess is some kind of stroke. But even that doesn't really add up, so no, I don't."

“What do you mean, ‘doesn’t add up’?” Lee asked.

“First go to medical school, Commander, then come back and I’ll explain it to you with all the appropriate big words. But for now, you're just going to have to trust me. It’s like a stroke, but not a stroke.”

Saul was looking from one man to the other, forehead creased in consternation. “I thought the rock to the head did it,” he said. 

Cottle shook his head. “It probably didn’t help, but whatever caused him to fall in the first place is responsible for the amnesia. I just wish to frak someone had been around who could tell us how he was feeling just before it happened.”

Laura opened her mouth to speak, but Lee beat her to it. “I’ve been thinking about that,” the Commander said. “I think we should launch an investigation down on the planet. Someone must have seen something: the ground crew at the airfield, passersby, someone. You can’t swing a cat in that settlement without hitting three people.”

Laura wrinkled her nose at Lee’s imagery, but he was correct. “I agree, Commander. Who can we put on it? Someone discrete.” 

“I know just the person,” he said. “Kara Thrace.”

Saul snorted. “Starbuck? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“No, I’m not,” Lee insisted. “She knows everyone down there; she’d do anything for Dad; and she knows how to keep her mouth shut when she needs to.”

Saul snorted again, but Laura silenced him with a glare. “I think Lieutenant Thrace would be perfect for the job, Lee. Can you set it up?”

Lee nodded. “I’ll get word down to her.”

Next, Laura turned to Dr. Cottle. “Doctor, can you tell us how you’re going to proceed with Bill?”

Cottle pulled out another cigarette and lit it with the stub of its predecessor. “Physically, he’s coming right along. The gash on his head is healing. He wasn’t unconscious for that long, so there aren’t really any side effects from that, aside from dehydration, which I’m treating. Whatever caused the amnesia seems to have also caused some muscle weakness, but that’s improving.” He paused, and took a drag, watching his audience watching him for a few seconds before continuing. “I’m telling you this to explain that I’m not going to be able to keep him in bed for much longer. We better hope his memory comes back on its own and soon, or I don’t know what I’m going to do with him.”

Laura picked up the trail from there. “And that’s a problem, as I’m sure you’ve all realized, because we need to keep this as quiet as possible. If word were to get back to Baltar, mark my words, he would have Bill removed from his position so fast our heads would spin.”

“And replaced him with a frakking puppet,” Saul cursed, completing her thought.

”We cannot let that happen,” Laura replied without missing a beat. She paused to consider for a moment. “Colonel, if any requests come from the president’s office for a meeting with the Admiral…”

“I’ll cover for him,” the Colonel replied before she could finish. “I’ll think of something.”

“We can’t keep this hidden forever,” Lee pointed out. “If Dad doesn’t start improving…”

“He will,” Saul growled, and for once Laura was grateful for the Colonel’s unwavering faith in his CO. Deep down she knew Lee was right, but it wasn’t an option she was willing to consider yet. For the next few days at least, they could pull together and buy Bill some time to get back to himself. And then…She glanced at Saul, wondering if the Colonel would have what it took to pull a military coup against Baltar if it came down to that.

_ Gods, Laura, what are you even thinking? _

Curbing the thought for now, she turned to look at the doctor again.

“Doctor Cottle, what’s your prognosis? What are the chances Bill’s – the  _ Admiral’s _ memories will return?”

The doctor shrugged. “Until we know the underlying cause of his condition, guessing is pretty futile. It’s possible he will regain his memories partly or in full over a period of time. Then again…” He paused, fixing Laura with a sympathetic look. “Then again, he might not.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Laura replied, steeling herself against the implication of his words as she stood up from behind her desk. “I think that’s all for now,” she said, feeling suddenly very tired again. “Commander Adama?”

Lee came to attention.

“You will contact Lieutenant Thrace without delay to get this investigation started?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied. Laura did not bother to correct his formal way of address.

“And Colonel Tigh, you have the command of Galactica for the time being,” she said, turning to face the Colonel. It was not a question.

“Only until the Old Man is back in action,” Saul replied grimly.

“Naturally,” Laura replied with a fleeting glance towards Cottle. “I think we're done here now,” she added then, stepping around the desk. “If the Admiral’s awake, I would like to see him.”


	9. Chapter 9

"His knowledge of Colonial history seems to cut off somewhere around the end of the first Cylon war," Cottle explained to Lee and Laura as they walked from the Admiral's quarters toward Life Station.

At the conclusion of their meeting they had decided that Lee, who hadn't yet seen his father awake, would have a short visit before going back to Pegasus to make contact with Kara. Saul, who by now was back in CIC, would visit sometime later in the day, so as not to overwhelm Bill with too many new faces at once.

"Does he think he's still fighting in it?" Lee asked.

Cottle shook his head. "No. His knowledge, none of it, is personal to him. He can tell me things about Caprica City, or about how combustion engines work, or what goes in spicy Tauron stew, but he's just reciting facts. It's like he's telling me about things he once read in a book, not anything he's ever experienced."

"So," Lee said, pausing in his walk and forcing the the other two to turn around to face him. "I guess he doesn't know he has a son."

"No, Lee," Laura said softly. "I'm sorry, he doesn't." She, more than most, knew how fraught that relationship was. For this to happen now, when rift between father and son finally seemed to have healed, had to be devastating.

Lee looked to the floor for a moment, struggling to contain the emotions that rippled across his face. "Should we tell him?" he asked when he looked up again.

"I think for now, no," Cottle said, not without sympathy. "He hasn't shown any curiosity about who any of us are to him, and I think it's better if we wait until he does. If he asks who you are, that's a good sign that he's trying to engage with the world around him. And of course, we won't lie to him. But until that happens, I think it's best if you're just someone who comes to visit sometimes."

They arrived at Life Station and after Cottle dismissed the guard, he disappeared behind Bill's curtain to see if he was ready for visitors. Laura and Lee took seats in the cluttered corner that served as Cottle's office to wait.

***

The man had been resting his eyes, but he opened them swiftly when he heard the hatch open. One…two…three separate footsteps if he was not mistaken. That meant at least one new visitor, or perhaps another guard. They thought they were being stealthy, but he had seen them. Whenever the woman or the doctor left, someone else stepped in, and a couple of times the man had caught a glimpse of an armed man passing the small gap between the curtains.

So what was it going to be now? Were they going to continue his interrogation? The doctor’s questions earlier must have been a test of some sort because most of his queries had appeared insignificant and irrelevant.

Would the real questions start now?

The doctor himself soon appeared from behind the curtain. Why did they keep drawing the curtains around his bed, anyway? To keep him from seeing where he was being held?

“I have two visitors for you,” the doctor spoke, interrupting his thoughts. This time he did not sit down.

“Who?” the man asked, wondering if he would receive a straight answer.

“Laura…you remember Laura from last night?” The doctor paused and the man nodded. As if he could forget.

“And?” he asked then, waiting for the second name.

“Lee,” the doctor said after a beat. "Lee is here."

_Lee._ What sort of a name was that supposed to be?

“Shall I bring them both in?” the doctor asked when the man did not reply.

The man nodded. He might as well meet this Lee and see what he was up against.

He watched as the doctor disappeared behind the curtain and a moment later the woman – except she now looked quite different, more formal – stepped in, followed closely by a young man wearing a Colonial Fleet uniform.

_Military._ Of course. He should have known. High-ranking, too, by the looks of it. The man could recognize the pins that marked this “Lee” as a Commander. His uniform revealed his ship to be the Battlestar Pegasus.

The man couldn't remember any battlestar by that name. Something was clearly not right.

“You must be Lee,” he forced himself to say, feigning politeness. It would not be smart to make this officer suspicious.

The young Commander looked more pleased than he had any right to be, being addressed so informally. “That’s right,” he said, smiling openly as he took a seat by the bed.

The man eyed him suspiciously. He had not expected a reaction of this kind. Instinctively his eyes darted to Laura who stood by the foot the of the bed, her fingers playing with the bedrail. Was she nervous?

The suit looked good on her but it created quite a different air from the red she had been wearing previously. Why the different outfit now? What was her part in all this? Clearly she was not military, so who was she? 

"I can't stay long," the Commander said. He glanced uncertainly at the woman, who nodded slightly, and their silent exchange only served to confirm the man's suspicions. She was in charge here. But how?

"But I wanted to stop in and see how you were doing," the Commander continued. "Is there anything you need; anything I can bring you?"

As they continued to converse, speaking in words that had no real meaning, it became clear to the man that, for reasons unknown, the Commander was eager to please him. He would not, perhaps, be as cautious as the woman. The man considered revising his escape plan to include him, but then quickly discarded the possibility. The Commander was a man in his prime, perhaps leaning a bit to paunch, but still clearly strong and healthy, not to mention armed. He would be much more difficult to overcome than the woman. No, Laura would remain his target.

After only a short time, the younger man seemed to run out of things to say, and stood, excusing himself. The woman caught his eye and smiled slightly, squeezing his forearm as she moved to take the seat he vacated. Were they lovers, perhaps? The man's eyes narrowed at the thought. If she were in love with someone else, that would make his task more difficult.

"You look different," he said to her when they were alone.

She looked down at herself as though she had forgotten what she was wearing. "Hmm, yes," she agreed. "I suppose I do. I had a meeting this morning. It seemed to call for a bit more gravitas than my regular clothing provided."

"A meeting about me," he intuited.

"Yes," she admitted, after a beat had passed. She smiled at him, and for the first time it seemed genuine. "We just want to help you, Bill."

Help him. Help him betray his cause and spill his secrets. That was not any kind of help he wanted.

"Oh!" the woman suddenly exclaimed, twisting in her chair. "I almost forgot. I brought you something." From the front pocket of her suit jacket, she withdrew a pair of wire-rimmed eyeglasses and held them out to him.

He looked from her to the glasses and back, not quite understanding. 

"They're yours," Laura explained. "I found them where...where you were hurt. Go ahead take them." 

He complied, taking them from her, and sliding them on to his face. Instantly, his vision, which he hadn't even realized was blurry, cleared. He looked over at the woman and blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the magnification.

"Better?" she asked.

An opportunity: he seized it and forced his mouth into a smile. "Yeah. Better. You're even more beautiful than I thought."

***

Laura could feel a rush of heat coloring her cheeks for a moment, following the unexpected flattery, but the feeling of warmth was soon replaced by a sinking feeling brought on by other observations. She knew Bill’s smile, rare as it was, and this one reminded her more of the forced ones she had been subjected to at the very early stages of their relationship, back in the days of mutual mistrust.

Besides, this kind of blatant flattery was not like Bill.

_“That’s a nice color on you.”_ A memory of that day on New Caprica floated through Laura’s mind and color rose back to her cheeks as her lips curled into a smile. That had been more like Bill – the words themselves simple and artless, easy to dismiss, but his wandering, appreciating eyes giving them their full meaning.

“Thank you,” Laura managed at last, ruffling her hair a little self-consciously. After a pause, she quickly changed the subject: “How is your head feeling?” She reached for the book she had left by Bill’s bed. “I could read to you for a while if you would like.”

Bill’s eyes followed her hand as she took the book and began flipping the pages to find the spot where she had left off.

“I started reading to you while you were unconscious but you probably don’t remember,” Laura continued, looking up to catch Bill’s reaction. He had been eyeing her curiously but smiled again when their eyes met.

“I don’t remember,” he admitted, shaking his head a little. The movement still seemed to cause him some pain.

“That’s alright,” Laura replied, returning to the first page. “We can start over. I don’t think I was paying very much attention to the plot either, to tell you the truth,” she added, smiling a little guiltily. Her mind had been on Bill.

***

_New Caprica_

Kara found Galen Tyrol red-faced and sweating, sitting in the dust surrounded by machine parts, in a part of the settlement the mechanics had claimed as their own. "Heya Chief, she said, throwing herself on the ground beside him. "Whatcha building?"

"More like tearing down," he grumbled. "I frakking hate scavenging parts from ships to use for generators. We might need those buckets to fly again someday, ya know?"

It was nothing but the truth, but Kara didn't like the knots it tied in her stomach. She ignored his comment and focused on the reason she was there.

"So, I heard it was you who found the Old Man couple days ago."

"Yeah," Galen said, continuing to separate individual components from the whole, seemingly by brute force alone. "Quite the thing." He grunted and the piece of metal he was tugging on let go, momentum slamming both it and his hand into the dirt. He let go and shook his hand, wincing. "Hey," he said, looking at Kara, "you talk to anyone upstairs? How's he doing?"

"Yeah," Kara confirmed. "He's not doing so good, Chief. Confused as frak. Doc's not sure what's going on. Lee wants me to talk to anyone who might have seen him in between his Raptor landing, and you finding him. I thought I'd work backwards."

"And start with me," Galen said, following her logic."I can't tell you much though. He was on the northwest path, about three crossovers in, keeled over on the ground. Looked like he hit his head when he fell, blood all over. Dumbasses standing around debating what to do with him didn't recognize him. Couldn't really see his face, the way he landed. Thought he was just some drunk on shore leave. Most of them were leaving when I got there, except this one guy that called me over. Want his name?"

Kara nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

Tyrol gave her a name and Kara made note on a scrap of paper. "Then what happened?"

"Someone went and got the Doc, and we got him on a stretcher. Passed Cally on the way to medical, and Doc sent her off to find Roslin. I left when he was situated in the medical tent. That's all I know."

Kara jumped to her feet again. "Don't tell anyone I was asking okay? Or what I said about the Admiral being in bad shape. We're trying to keep all of this from getting back to our esteemed leader."

Galen waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah, no worries, Starbuck. I never saw a thing, including you."


	10. Chapter 10

_ Galactica _

The morning of the fifth day of Bill's incapacitation began, as was becoming their custom, with Laura, Dr. Cottle, Lee, and Colonel Tigh meeting in the Admiral's quarters to exchange information. Laura, as usual, sat at Bill's desk with Cottle sprawled in a chair, and Lee and Saul pacing and standing unnecessarily at attention, respectively.

"Kara spoke to Tyrol two days ago," Lee reported, coming to a stop in front of Laura. "He told her basically what we already knew: that he and another guy found Dad on the ground on in the settlement. She got the other guy’s name and was going to talk to him, but she hasn’t been able to report in again yet." He paused, and looked to the Colonel. "Why was he on the planet anyway? He wasn't supposed to meet with Baltar, was he?"

The Colonel raised shoulders and palms. "I have no idea."

Across the room, Dr. Cottle snorted into his cup of coffee, but only shook his head when the other two men looked his way.

Laura glared at him briefly over the rims her glasses, then changed the subject. "Has she located anyone who saw him walking from the airfield to the settlement?"

Lee shook his head. "Not yet. She's being very careful about how she introduces the subject, looking for natural openings, so it's slow going."

Laura nodded. That was to be expected. The longer this situation went on, the greater the chance of word getting back to Baltar, but she was still determined to delay the inevitable as long as possible.

Moving on, she turned to Dr. Cottle. "Do you have a report for us, Doctor?"

"Well, as you know, since you're always there, not much has changed as far as Bill's mental state goes. He doesn't seem to have remembered anything, and a lot of the time he's very closed off, but he seems to at least be attempting to relate positively to us when we're right there in his face."

Laura held her tongue, but she wasn't so sure about that. As Cottle said, she was spending a lot of time with him in Life Station, and while it was true that Bill, at times, seemed to be trying to be friendly and cooperative, his efforts didn't quite sit right with her. There was little consistency about her interactions with him. It seemed to be one extreme or the other: either he barely acknowledged her presence or he was blatantly flirting with a smile that never quite reached his eyes. Only rarely, almost accidentally, did he seem to drop his guard and react to her the way the old Bill would have.

"Physically, he continues to improve," Cottle continued. "I've been doing physiotherapy with him twice a day, and his strength is starting to come back. He was up and walking around Life Station a bit yesterday, and I hope to get him out in the corridor this afternoon. He's still shaky, but making progress." He lit a cigarette and stood, setting his coffee cup down on the table nearest him. "So, if there's nothing more, I should get back. I want to take another series of brain scans this morning."

"No, I think that's all for now," Laura said, looking questioningly from Lee to Saul. Both men shook their heads; they had nothing to add.

"I'd like to be there for his walk, Doctor," she said.

"Shocking," he said, following a smoky exhalation. Then more kindly, he added. "Come at noon. You can have lunch with him after I'm done with the tests, and then we'll go for a stroll."

"Good," Laura replied, giving the doctor a curt nod. "I'll see you at the Life Station then."

As soon as the three men were gone, Laura exhaled loudly and leaned back in her chair.

Five days and no improvement in Bill's condition to speak of, apart from his physical health. Soon her only problem wouldn’t be just trying to hide Bill’s condition from the government. She had already been absent from the planet for five days now and even though she had left the school in good hands, she knew people would soon start asking questions about her as well. Perhaps they already were.

A wry smile appeared on Laura’s face for a moment as she wondered how long it would take for the local gossips to come up with a rumor that she was up on Galactica, holed up in the Admiral’s quarters, warming his bed - which, technically, was precisely what she was doing. Only without the Admiral himself.

Laura sighed again, the smile quickly fading from her face as her mind returned to all the responsibilities on the ground she had been neglecting. It had been five days already and it didn’t look like things were about to improve any time soon. Laura was sure Tory, with the help of Maya, would be doing her best, and she herself was doing what she could to continue marking all the homework Tory was able to send to her, but how long could she keep it up? Even without the ever present risk of Baltar finding out what was going on, the children deserved more than her divided attention.

And yet, leaving Bill right now was simply not an option. There was too much at stake. The safety of the entire fleet could be compromised if they didn’t figure out soon how to help Bill. If his situation became known…Laura shuddered at the thought. She was certain one of Zarek’s cronies would be placed in command of the fleet and then they would all be depending on a bunch of terrorists to keep them safe. It could never be allowed to happen. She would do everything in her power to prevent it, even if it meant neglecting her students for now. It certainly wouldn’t be the first sacrifice she’d had to make for the greater good.

If she did have other, more personal reasons keeping her on Galactica…well, this was not the time to dwell on those reasons. She would have to keep her head cool, especially in the light of the most recent developments in Bill’s behavior.

Laura had never known him to be disingenuous, but something about his behavior was distinctly off. Was he only overcompensating for not being able to remember her? Did he think they were a couple and that she was expecting him to feel something he clearly could not feel towards a stranger? If so, why didn’t he just ask?

That was the other strange thing that Laura could not understand. During these days, Bill had never asked who any of them were to him. He had simply accepted the names he had been given and asked nothing further. And yet it didn’t seem to be for lack of curiosity since he always seemed observant, watching and listening keenly whenever he had a visitor.

If only she could get him to open up to her.

Frustrated with all the unanswered questions, Laura finally stood up and walked over to Bill’s closet. She had managed to salvage a set of discarded sweats from Galactica’s laundry room the day before and, seeing as she still had plenty of time before noon, she decided she might as well go and work out some of her frustrations at the gym.

***

The man had been a little disappointed to find the doctor returning without company from wherever he seemed to go every morning. He had been half expecting to find at least the woman trailing in the doctor’s wake, and had considered her absence a setback (for his plans of escape, of course - nothing to do with the way the corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled), but his spirits had lifted considerably when the doctor had told him she would arrive later for lunch and a possible walk.

A walk. He had taken a turn around the hospital room with the doctor the day before, which had given him more insight into his immediate surroundings as well as assured him that he was fit enough now to stand on his own two feet, but it was nothing to the possibility of being allowed to go on a proper walk. It might be too soon to attempt an escape, especially if he were to be accompanied by both Laura and the doctor, but it would be an invaluable opportunity to look for possible exit routes.

With these prospects ahead, the man even submitted willingly to the tests the doctor seemed insistent on performing on him that morning, knowing that as his plans of escape were so close to coming to fruition, appearing cooperative was now more important than ever.

***

Laura arrived at Life Station shortly after noon to find Bill sitting up in bed reading the book she left behind the day before.

“You’re going to get ahead of me,” she chided him as she rounded the curtain.

He looked up and graced her with a seemingly genuine smile. “Sorry,” he said. “I just needed to know what happened.”

When she looked at him now, smiling at her with a book in his hand, it was  _ her  _ Bill she saw, and she could almost cry for missing him. If she let them, these rare little moments of almost normalcy could make the pain worse. Worse, because they never lasted, no matter how hard she prayed they would. But she wouldn't let that happen. Instead she used them to steel her spine, and make her all the more determined to see this through, to help Bill find his way back to them.

It was ironic, in the way her whole life had become ironic in the time since the attacks, that the person she most depended upon to help her work through complex situations like this, the one whose advice she relied on, whose judgement she trusted more than any person left alive, was now the person she knew she could help, if only she had her  Admiral’s counsel.

Then, before she could even respond, to tease him about his impatience, or offer to read some more while they waited for lunch, her Bill was gone again. The light went out of his eyes and his shoulders stiffened as he closed the book.

“I hear we’re going for a walk,” he said, with the forced flirtatious tone she’d come to dread.

She was saved from responding by Dr. Cottle appearing around the curtain carrying a tray with two bowls of noodles and two glasses of water. “Lunch is served,” he said, setting the tray carefully on Bill’s lap. “Standard tipping rate is 20%. Enjoy your delicious pasta and…oh frak it. It tastes like cardboard and it’s not much more nutritious, but at least it’s lukewarm.”

Laura smiled gratefully at the doctor, relieved by the interruption.

“Ah, my favorite,” she said sarcastically, reaching for a bowl. Then, glancing at the two bowls before looking up at Cottle again: “Aren’t you going to join us?”

“As tempting as that…stuff looks,” the doctor replied, looking at the noodles with some degree of disgust, “I still have some…paperwork to finish.” He looked pointedly at Laura and when he nodded his head slightly towards Bill, she recalled the tests he had intended to run that morning and realized he probably still had a report to write.

“So…” Cottle continued, “If anyone wants me, I’ll be over there in my corner, wishing I had picked another profession.”

Laura watched the doctor as he disappeared behind the curtain, wondering if his latest tests had produced any new results – any light at the end of the tunnel. Then she turned back to Bill with forced cheerfulness and handed him his bowl of noodles.

“Here you go,” she said. “I’m sorry we have nothing better to offer, but at least it’s something to eat.”

Bill took the bowl with an obliging smile. “Don’t worry, Laura,” he said, his hand grazing hers as he took the bowl. “Your company more than makes up for it.”

“Flatterer,” Laura muttered, trying to hide her disappointment at such blatantly false flirtation behind a forced smile. Her appetite for the lukewarm noodles had plummeted from almost to completely non-existent and she swirled the offending portion in her bowl with disdain.

“You’re not hungry?” Bill asked and something of the old Bill, the  _ real  _ Bill, seemed to flash in his eyes again. Laura swallowed a lump in her throat.

“Not really,” she replied, quickly wiping the corner of her eye before managing a smile again. “But we really should eat while it’s still at least lukewarm. It can only get worse from here.”

Bill nodded, picking up his fork and tucking in with gusto that warmed Laura’s heart. At least his appetite seemed to be returning.

***

The man was confused. The woman clearly did not enjoy the prisoner food, and was equally clearly not a prisoner, so why was she pretending that was all she could eat? Was it another trick, a way of trying to gain his trust, make him think they were the same? They were  _ not  _ the same.

In the end, it did not matter. She would not trick him.

He finished his food quickly. When the woman noticed his bowl was empty, she extended her arm, offering her mostly untouched bowl. "I'm not going to eat it," she said. "We try not to waste food around here. Go ahead, finish it."

"You should eat it; you're too thin," he said without thinking, then snapped his mouth shut on the last word. Why would he say that? It was true, but it was not his concern. Besides, she no doubt ate like a queen when she was not with him.

Her eyebrows rose at his impudence. "I'm fine; I'll eat something later. But you need your strength if we're going to go for a walk."

She had no idea how true that was, so he accepted her offering.

After a few minutes, the doctor returned to help him out of bed and into his robe and boots. The woman picked their tray and disappeared from view. The man was glad; he did not want her to see him struggling to stand.

The doctor pulled the curtain back when he was ready and his eyes fell instantly on the woman, who was now standing at a sink across the room, rinsing their dishes. She turned just as he took a careful step in her direction.

"Oh, Bill," she said, a smile lighting her face as if from within. Her hands rose, clasped together in front of her chin. "Look at you, up on your feet!" Her pleasure in his progress made him stand up straighter: proud, but also wary. What would they want from him when he was strong again?

No matter. He would not be staying to find out.

The doctor spun open the hatch and helped him over the lip, then stood back, letting the woman take his place. The man offered her his arm, a gallant gesture he wasn't sure she would accept, but she did and with an ease that seemed almost practised.

They started slowly down the corridor, the woman holding his arm loosely, not supporting him, but not leaning on him either. The doctor walked on his other side, watching him carefully for weakness. He would not find any.

He noted with dismay that the armed guard stationed just outside the hatch fell into step behind them.

Sighing to himself, the man added the guard into the growing list of things he would have to factor in before he could make his escape. Now more than ever it seemed vital that he would get the woman to fall for him. He needed her to  _ want  _ to be alone with him, because he was certain that one word from her could send the guard away for as long as she wanted.

But she remained a mystery. The man could tell she was hard to crack and most of the time his flattery and flirtation seemed to meet with only resistance, but there were moments when he thought he could see something else in her eyes, as if she might be warming up to him despite herself. They were only fleeting moments, and she always seemed quick to regain control over whatever might have slipped through, but he was certain he had seen it.

He would simply have to redouble his efforts until they would start paying off. He just had to remember to pay attention to his surroundings as well. This was, after all, a recon mission.


	11. Chapter 11

As soon as she was back in the Admiral’s quarters, Laura kicked off her shoes and made a beeline to the couch, letting out a frustrated sigh as she sank down. The walk had been a nightmare.

_ “Have I mentioned your hair looks really nice today?” _ – She had barely run a brush through it.

_ “You smell good.” _ – She smelled of the standard military-issue soap, same as everyone else on Galactica.

_ "You have nice eyes.” _ – He had barely been able to look her in those eyes as he had spoken.

Laura shook her head at the memory of Bill's misguided efforts. What in the name of Kobol had gotten into him? He had been almost as bad as Richard on his worst days, when he wanted something from her.

She paused, a new thought suddenly presenting itself to her.  _ Did Bill want something from her? _

But if so, what could that possibly be? There didn’t seem to be anything he could gain by flattery. They were already doing everything they could for him.

Then another unwelcome idea entered her mind. What if he had simply woken up with a completely new personality? Laura shook her head, dismissing the thought at once. No, it could not be. The real Bill was still in there. She knew it. She had seen it. She… _ they _ would just have to find a way to crack through whatever all this other madness was.

A knock on the hatch just then interrupted Laura’s thoughts and she had barely enough time to sit up a little straighter before the wheel turned and the hatch was pushed open.

“Sure, come on in,” Laura muttered dryly as Dr. Cottle appeared a moment later without waiting to be told to enter.

“Well, if you don’t want the report of this morning’s tests…” he said, waving the file in his hand. Laura was up on her feet before he could finish.

“I’m sorry,” she said as the file exchanged hands. “I'm just…not in a good mood.”

“What, after the Old Man put so much effort into pleasing you?” Apparently the good doctor simply had to make a comment.

Laura glared at him. “Don’t,” she said icily before lowering her eyes to scan the report.

After a moment she gave up. Dr. Cottle was usually good about trying to write his reports so that a layman could understand, but right now she was just too tired and anxious to focus on deciphering even limited amounts of medical terminology. She would read the entire report later when she was better rested, but for now…”Can you give me the highlights, Doctor?”

“So glad I used my time wisely,” he grumbled, but she knew he wasn’t really bothered. He lit a cigarette and pulled a chair over from the table to sit facing her.

“What that beautifully written report says is that Bill’s brain damage is essentially unchanged from the previous set of scans. The dark spots I showed you before are still there. Now, I’m at a disadvantage here because I’m not a neurologist, and medical school was a long time ago, but I think at this point it’s safe to assume that the those dark spots are where his memories were stored.”

“That sounds bad,” Laura said.

“Well, it’s not good,” he admitted. “I had hoped to find some healing, some indication that the damage wasn’t permanent, but…” He lifted his hands in consternation.

“So you’re telling me the brain tissue where his memories should be stored is…what? Dead?”

“Not dead. Dark. Don’t ask me the difference, because I don’t know, and I can’t know without cutting his skull open.”

“Which we are  _ not _ going to do,” Laura emphasized, alarmed.

Cottle waved a hand. “Of course not. We don’t have the facilities for that. In any case, that’s not the most interesting part of my report.”

“And that would be…” Why could no one ever just get to the point?

“The scans picked up some new brain activity – parts of the brain that were lit up, so to speak, that weren’t before.”

“And what does that mean?”

Cottle just looked at her until she waved a hand in surrender. “Never mind. Not a neurologist, I get it. You know, you’re not an oncologist either, and that worked out okay.”

“No thanks to me,” he threw back. “That…”

“The scans, Jack,” she interrupted, not wanted to get off on a tangent, not even one she started.

“Right.” He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table. “The new activity could be his brain trying to heal itself and find new pathways to access his memories. Or it could be something else…something that’s showing up as Bill’s new…personality quirks.”

Laura sighed. “You’ve noticed it too, then.”

“I may be old but I’m not blind yet,” the doctor harrumphed. He paused to give Laura a pointed look. “He seems to be especially fixated on you, young lady. Can’t imagine why.”

“It’s not like him,” Laura replied, ignoring his last remark.

“To be fixated on you?” Cottle raised an eyebrow. “Well, if the rumors I heard regarding the groundbreaking day are at all true…” Another look from Laura silenced him. “Alright, alright,” he sighed. “To answer your question, yes, I have noticed there is something very odd about his behavior.”

“He seems so reserved somehow,” Laura agreed. “Why isn’t he asking us any questions? If he can’t remember who we are, wouldn’t he want to know?”

“Logically, I would assume yes,” Cottle replied. “But we don’t know what goes on in that head of his. He’s woken up with no memory of who he is. He could be more scared than he lets on. To have no sense of self can be very traumatic.”

Laura paused to consider the doctor’s words. She had to admit there could be some truth to his theory. If Bill had no idea who he was, where he was, or who they were, what did he have to work with? Not a lot.

“Do you think he could be constructing some kind of alternate reality of his own, trying to make sense of his surroundings?” she asked carefully.

“I have thought of it,” the doctor said. “But, you know, I’m also not a psychiatrist.”

Laura sighed. Where was a team of specialist doctors when they needed one? But Cottle, despite his grumblings, was a highly skilled physician and had served them well this far.

“Well, since you  _ have _ at least gone to medical school,” she sighed, “do you think we should try telling him more, or would that only overwhelm him?”

“It’s hard to tell,” Cottle replied, blowing out cigarette smoke. “We’re navigating uncharted space here, but we’ve tried one approach and, in my experience, if that doesn’t work, it’s time to try another.”

She nodded. His point was often true in teaching as well. Less so in politics where doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results was all too often the norm.

“Okay,” she said, “so maybe we need to explain some things to him. Tell him outright who he is, who we are to him.” And gods, tell him about the attacks. Would it be more or less traumatic to learn your whole world was gone if you had no memory of it in the first place?

The doctor lit another cigarette and then looked around at his surroundings. He spoke again after blowing out a lungful of smoke. “Tell him, yes. And, maybe, show him.” He raised both his eyebrows at Laura.

“You think we should bring him here to talk to him,” she said, nodding along. She should have thought of that herself. If anywhere on this ship was likely to feel like home to Bill, it was, well, his home. These rooms, the things in them, their very essence, were Bill in expressionist form. 

“It won’t be long until there’s no physical reason for him to remain in Life Station,” Cottle said. “He may as well get a preview of where he’ll be going. And hopefully being here will be calming to him and help him hear what we have to tell him. Best case scenario, it will jog his memory, but even if it doesn’t, I think this is the least traumatic way of going about it.”

Laura agreed. “So when. Tomorrow?”

“I think so, yes.”

They decided they would meet with Lee and the Colonel in the morning as usual, get an update on Kara’s investigation and tell the other two about their plan. And then they’d go fetch the Admiral. Their walk around the ship would lead them here.

***

_ New Caprica _

Kara found Galen Tyrol in the same spot she left him in two days earlier. Once again he was surrounded by machine parts, though he seemed cheerier than he had the last time, tossing off a smart-assed salute when he saw her. “How’s it going, Starbuck?”

She groaned loudly and sank down in the dirt beside him. “It’s not. No one saw a frakking thing.”

“Oh, right. Your investigation into what happened to the Admiral. You talk to that guy whose name I gave you?”

Starbuck nodded. “Yeah. Told me the same thing you did. He was walking by with a few other guys, and they saw a guy on the ground they thought was passed out drunk. His buddies kept going. He thought he recognized the Admiral, and called you. That’s it.”

Galen nodded. That was what he remembered as well.

“He said his buddies didn’t know who the Old Man was, and he won’t be telling them now,” Kara continued, a little edge to her tone, that Tyrol rightly assumed meant she’d gone a little out of her way to make sure old Freddie kept quiet.

“Aw Kara, he wouldn’t have told no one anyway. Freddie’s not a gossip.”

She shrugged. She had to be sure. “I did learn one thing. Baltar’s goons were handing out lottery tickets to win a plot of land outside the settlement in exchange for people’s valuables. That’s why not many were around at the time. I can’t find anyone else who saw him along his route.”

Tyrol nodded. He’d heard rumours of something like that, but it sounded like bullshit to him. He would have told anyone who asked not to trust a single word that came out of Colonial One these days, but of course most people knew his opinion already, so they didn’t ask him. “Yeah. There was probably a big crowd there. Frakking idiots.”

Kara snorted her agreement. “Probably a good thing the Old Man didn’t hear about it.” Her voice trailed off and she frowned as she remembered why he didn’t hear about it.

“So no news then?” Galen asked.

Kara shook her head. “I talked to the ground crew on shift that day, and they said there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him.” Which brought her to the reason she was there. “The only thing out of the ordinary at all was that he asked them to look over his Raptor’s propulsion system because there was a warning light on.” She grinned suddenly and stretched out her leg to kick the Chief’s boot. “Apparently, no one’s done it yet.”

Tyrol looked over at her. “I see where this is going. I’m not military anymore, Starbuck. They won’t let me near it.”

“Doesn’t matter. We’ve got Apollo’s permission. I want to pull the black box too.”

Tyrol looked at her for a moment, then shrugged. They both knew he’d do it for the Admiral. There was no point in arguing about it.

***

_ Galactica _

As soon as everyone was gathered in the Admiral’s quarters the next morning, Laura wasted no time in going through with Lee and Saul what she and Dr. Cottle had agreed upon the day before. The plan met no opposition and it was soon generally decided that as both officers were due on call that morning, Laura and Cottle would be the ones to start breaking the information to Bill. In order to avoid confusion, Lee agreed to forego his usual morning visit and come back in the evening after his shift when he would have more time and Bill would already have been told he had a son. Saul, too, would come later after his shift was over.

After all this was settled, Laura was glad to be able to move on to the other subject she was keen to hear about.

“So,” she pressed forward after the end of the first discussion had brought on a short lull in their conversation. “Any news from the ground, Commander?” she turned to Lee. “How is Lieutenant Thrace getting on with her investigation?”

Lee stepped forward. “Slowly, I’m afraid,” he replied. “I talked to her this morning and she reports she has not been able to find anyone who saw or heard anything. She believes she has exhausted all her chances to find a witness, but she did say she had one more lead she wanted to look at.”

“What’s that?” Laura asked. She wasn’t willing to accept that this investigation would meet a dead end. Something had happened to Bill and somebody had to know something about it.

“The Raptor, ma’am,” Lee  replied. “Kara…Lieutenant Thrace has found that the Raptor Dad flew in on is still at the airfield. Apparently Dad had reported some technical issue he wanted to have looked at but no mechanic has had time to touch it yet. You know how it is on that planet.”

Laura nodded. She knew all too well. Problems and failures constantly arising in all quarters of life, most of them going unattended despite pleas for action until the problems grew to be so big they couldn’t be swept under a rug anymore.

“So Lieutenant Thrace thinks the Raptor could hold a clue?” Laura asked. It seemed unlikely but apparently they had nothing else to go on.

“Possibly,” Lee replied. “At the very least, it can talk to us.”

Laura looked at him quizzically.

“The black box,” Lee explained. “The flight data will show us if there was anything unusual in the flight pattern and we can hear from the cockpit voice recorder if Dad made any remarks during the flight. He might not have since it was a solo flight, but any conversations with either the ground control or Galactica would be stored there as well. The good news is the Raptor hasn’t flown since Dad landed it, so nothing will have been written over yet.”

Laura smiled to herself. Who would have thought that things moving at a glacial pace on that frakking planet could actually work to their advantage for once?

“Excellent work,” she said then. “And Lieutenant Thrace knows how to get this data?”

“She’s a pretty good mechanic, but she has enlisted the Chief’s help to make sure she doesn’t miss anything,” Lee replied. “She figured since Galen was there when Dad…”

“Yes, yes,” Laura waved her hand, signaling Lee to move on. She was not concerned about the Chief. She knew Bill trusted the man implicitly.

“Right,” Lee nodded. “So Kara and the Chief will be looking at the Raptor today and I’m hoping I will have something new to report by tomorrow. Even if they find nothing, we’ll at least be a little wiser as we can start ruling things out.”

“What if they do find nothing?” Saul, who had remained quiet through the whole exchange, suddenly spoke up.

Laura looked to Cottle. She had been unwilling to consider the possibility yet that they might find no explanation to Bill’s condition.

Dr. Cottle shrugged. “Then we might never know what happened” he said, dumping his cigarette that was now down to a stub. “But we can cross that bridge when we get there. Right now, Madam Schoolteacher,” he continued, looking at Laura, “We have another wobbly bridge to get over.”

***

Something was happening. The man knew it, could feel it churning up the air all around him.

The woman, Laura, hadn’t been back to see him since their walk the day before. That was unusual, a red flag waving behind his eyes. She was always there in the evening to read to him, stepping out when the balding Colonel visited and returning to her seat at his side when he left. Not so last night.

And now this morning, the doctor has been gone for much longer than usual. They were planning something, the two of them conspiring together, probably with the two soldiers as well. His eyes narrowed as he twisted the bedsheets around his hands. Now that he was stronger, it would be logical for them to step up their questions. Somehow he knew that any interrogation the woman was in charge of would be thorough. 

He would need to make his escape soon. A long jagged rent appeared in the sheet wrapped around his hands.


	12. Chapter 12

The doctor returned a short time later, with the woman in tow. The man held his breath, listening with all his concentration, trying to catch any clues they might let slip when they thought he couldn’t hear.

“It’s our best chance.” That was the doctor, his voice low, barely audible.

The woman responded, but he couldn’t make out what she said over the click-clacking of her heels across the floor. She was agitated, pacing back and forth, in and out of his line of sight, her shadow crossing in front of his curtain.

“You can do the talking; you will anyway,” the doctor said.

A sharp sound came in response, but the man couldn’t tell if it was a rebuke or a burst of laughter.

“I’ll be there to monitor him physically.” The man’s jaw tightened. Were they planning on torturing him? That kind of interrogation did not seem the woman’s style, but then what did he really know about her. Physical beauty can hide much from a man’s eye.

“We’ll take a guard along, just in case.”

“In case of what, doctor?” The woman did not like that suggestion, her voice finally rising in volume enough that he could hear her.

If the doctor responded, it was not in words, because suddenly the curtain surrounding his bed was pushed aside, revealing the two conspirators. His enemies. He would be well served not to forget that.

They both looked a little uptight, though Laura – no, the woman whose real name probably wasn’t Laura - smiled as soon as her eyes met his. The man did not smile back this time. He was too wary now to even attempt flirtation. It seemed his attempts at it had amounted to nothing and he had a bad feeling about what was going to happen next.

“Hi, Bill,” the woman said, her voice dripping of deceitful honey.

“Hi,” he said curtly, his fingers gripping the sheets under the covers.

The woman glanced at the doctor and, at the doctor's slight nod, she continued: “There’s something we’d like to talk about with you, but I think it would be nicer to go somewhere a bit more comfortable where we can talk in peace.”

_ ‘Comfortable’?  _ That definitely had to be a euphemism for some method of torture they were planning. The man knew all too well how this worked. But what options did he have? He would not be able to escape with the guard always following them.

“Where are we going?” he asked warily.

“It’ll make sense when we get there,” the woman replied, her voice now soft and reassuring, her green eyes alight with warmth. She really was good at this. So good, in fact, that the man almost wanted to believe her. He could imagine that many men before him probably had - to their detriment.

Whether he believed her or not, however, the man knew he would have no choice but to follow her and so he nodded his head slowly, starting to get out of bed. If he was about to walk to his torture, he would face it like a true soldier, and the least he could do was to get on his own two feet without assistance. When the doctor stepped closer to offer his arm for support, the man quickly waved it away.

He had just stood up with a sense of triumph when a sudden commotion behind the curtain made all their heads turn.

“Doctor! We need a doctor!” someone yelled, and in the next moment the curtain was pulled aside, revealing a man supporting another man who looked pale and close to passing out. Both were wearing military uniforms. A pool of blood that gushed from a wound in the other man’s leg was quickly forming on the floor.

“What the frak happened?” the doctor barked, springing to action. “You,” he pointed towards the guard who had been following them yesterday on their walk. “Take his other arm and help him get on the gurney, then both of you hold him down.”

“There was a small accident on B deck,” the other officer explained as the two men ushered the third one towards the gurney the doctor had pointed out. “A pipe burst and a piece of shrapnel flew into his leg.”

The man watched as the woman stepped forward, her demeanor now a curious mix of concern and formality. “An accident?” she asked in a clipped tone. “Were there any other injuries?”

“No, ma’am,” the officer said. “The pipe is being fixed and the situation is under control but…”

“You can all have a lovely chat about this later over tea, but we have a leg to save right now,” the doctor interrupted the questioning impatiently. “Keep him still for now so we can curb the blood flow,” he instructed the officer and the guard. “I need to examine the leg to make sure I get all foreign objects out before I stitch the wound up.”

The man watched with morbid curiosity as the scene unfolded, momentarily forgetting his own impending doom, until he felt a light touch on his arm. He turned to find the woman standing beside him again.

“What do you say we get a head start, hmm?” she asked. “It looks like the doctor will be held up for a while but you're already on your feet and neither of us are needed here right now.”

***

While Bill put on his boots and robe, Laura gestured to Cottle that they were going to get out of his way. The thin line of his lips and his narrowed eyes advised her that he didn’t agree with her choice to carry on with the plan without him. He would get over it. Now that the decision was made, she just needed to get on with it. Maybe it was better this way, just her and Bill, the way it had always been.

“Ready?” she asked Bill, who was standing beside his bed when she turned back. His eyes were distant, and when she followed his gaze, she found that he was looking not at Cottle or the injured man, but rather at the trailing puddles of blood leading from the hatch to the bed where the man now lay.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m sure someone will have that all cleaned up before we’re back,” She rested a hand on his arm. “Come on; let’s go, hmm?”

Slowly, Bill looked up, at her and then to the doctor. “What about them?” he asked, nodding his head toward the group surrounding the patient.

“They’ll catch up when they can. I think we’ll be okay on our own for a while, don’t you?”

Bill smiled then. “Yes, Laura. I think we will be.”

***

The woman led him along an entirely different route from the one they took on their walk the previous day, so all his recon was for naught. It didn’t matter. Today, with no doctor and no armed guard: this was his chance. 

The woman played at small talk as they walked, but the man barely heard her and did not respond beyond a word or two to keep her from becoming suspicious.

And then he saw it: his opportunity. So clear was it in his mind, it could have been placed there by the gods themselves.

Up ahead was a juncture point connecting several corridors, and standing in the middle of it was an older man holding a mop, half-heartedly swishing it from side to side. As they approached, the man’s eyes widened and he came to stand at attention. 

“Good morning, sirs,” the unfortunate janitor said, just as the man shoved him hard into the woman as they passed on either side of him. He didn’t wait to see the results of his actions, taking off at top speed down the opposite corridor. He could only hope he reached an exit before someone caught up to him.

“Bill!” he could hear the woman calling from behind him.  _ Sorry Laura _ , he thought as he rounded another corner. 

_ Bill was gone. _

***

“Madam President, are you okay?” The guard she had last seen in Life Station helped her to her feet. Her elbow tingled painfully from smashing it against the deck, but she was otherwise unharmed.

“Yes, I’m fine, I’m fine. Go! Go after the Admiral!” She practically pushed the guard off in the direction Bill ran. After he obeyed her order, she turned back to the janitor that had crashed into her. He had managed to right himself and was staring at her, his mouth wide open in shock.

“Go to Life Station and tell Dr. Cottle what happened.  _ Only _ Dr. Cottle, do you understand?”

The man snapped his jaw closed and nodded frantically.

“Go, go!” She waved him off.

When he was gone, she took off running herself, all the while wondering: What the  _ frak  _ had just happened?

***

The man ran as fast as he could, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. His steps were already beginning to falter. He had recovered well from his head injury but walking, it seemed, was not enough preparation for running.

He ran down corridor after corridor until he had to slow down to a brisk walk and then, soon after, come to a halt entirely. Panting heavily, he looked around for any signs of an exit. How big was this place anyway? He had kept his eyes peeled while he had been running, but all the doors he had passed had only born unhelpful names like “Wardroom” or “Storage”. He had seen nothing that would even have suggested a possible way out.

Behind him, the man could already hear the echo of still distant footsteps that seemed to be closing in on him. He had to change tactics. If he couldn’t find his way out by running, he would have to hide and hope he wouldn’t be discovered. If he lost his pursuers, he might have a better opportunity of finding an exit later.

Still wheezing from his sprint, the man staggered forward, deciding to try his luck with the unmarked hatch ahead of him. With any luck, it would lead to a small storage unit where he could wait for his followers to run past.

The hatch opened with a creak that made the man cringe. He hoped it would not have been heard, but he had no choice now to back up. The footsteps were getting too close. He pulled the hatch closed again behind him and stepped forward.

This was clearly not a storage room, but nor was it a room full of people. As he stepped in, he was immediately faced with what looked like a prison cell. Inside it, on a plain bed, sat a woman who stood up at the sight of him.

The man began walking up to the cell when suddenly he became aware of the guard standing in the shadows. He froze on the spot but, to his amazement, the guard only stood to attention and quickly saluted “Sir,” was all he said.

Confused, the man saluted as well, deciding that playing along was the only thing he could do under the circumstances. Perhaps the guard did not know who he was. The fact that he had only ever seen the woman, the doctor, the Colonel and the Commander, and the two specific guards that took turns in watching him, could indicate that his presence in the facility was a secret known only to those key operatives.

Perhaps he was even more important than he had thought. Clearly, this other prisoner was held in much more basic conditions.

When he met no opposition from the guard, the man stepped boldly forward to the comm unit that seemed to link the outside of the cell to the inside. It had occurred to the man that this prisoner could be one of his own team. He had to talk to her. Maybe even try to set her free if he could.

As he took the receiver and brought it up to his ear, the young woman stepped forward and did the same on the other side.

"Admiral?" her voice came crackled through the unit.

_ Admiral? He was her Admiral? _

It certainly would explain why he was being treated differently, and why  _ they _ would want information out of him.

“Are you okay?” he asked the woman, eyeing the guard carefully, watching for any sudden movement.

“I’m fine,” the woman said. “Are  _ you _ okay?”

She gestured toward him and the man realized she was referring to his attire. “They’ve been keeping me in a hospital,” he said, as quietly as he could.

The woman’s eyes widened, then moved from him to the guard.

“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

The woman opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, the distinctive sound of the hatch wheel turning came from behind him. The man turned quickly around just as the door started to open.

_ Frak _ ! He would not be captured! Whirling around again, he found the guard and the prisoner engaged in frantic gestured conversation through the thick glass. Thinking quickly, he advanced on the guard. When the man turned to face him, he pulled back his arm and delivered a hard right hook to his face. The man fell to the floor, blood leaking from his nose. While he was stunned, the man started to reach for the guard’s firearm.

“Bill!” The woman’s voice from behind him stopped him in his tracks. “Bill, what the  _ frak _ are you doing?”

By now the injured guard had recovered enough to have a firm grip on his side piece as he struggled to his feet. Blood flowed freely down his face.

“Gods,” the woman said. “What happened here?”

“He hit me, ma’am,” the guard said. “He just came in here, talked to the prisoner for a second, then when he heard the hatch opening, he punched me in the face.”

The man’s eyes darted from the bleeding guard, to the woman, to the original guard from the hospital who was now standing beside the woman, his hand hovering above his weapon. The prisoner stood with the comm receiver pressed to her ear, completely still as she watched the scene unfolding in front of her.

_ Waiting for her chance _ , the man thought. He must have trained her well.

“Okay, Bill,” the woman said soothingly. “Everything is fine; you just got a little overwhelmed. We’ll just go back to Life Station now, and you can get some rest.”

He’d never go back. He looked from one guard to other, then back to the woman, calculating his chances of getting out of there alive and uncaptured. It appeared bleak, but perhaps there was still one chance. If he could get close enough to her…

He shuffled forward, head down, but eyes up. The guard beside her took a step forward, but he could see the woman pin him in place with only a look. She thought she was in complete control of this situation. 

She was wrong.  

When he got close enough to her, he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back hard against him so her back was pressed up against his front, one of his arms around her neck, the other braced at her waist. Both of her hands flew up to pull at the arm around her neck, but even in his weakened condition, his muscular arms were no match for her and she had no effect on his hold.

“Madam President!” the guard beside her yelled, pulling his sidearm from its holster and pointing it at the man’s head.


	13. Chapter 13

_Madam President?_

Of course, now it all made sense. Despite her apparently civilian status, she had always seemed to be in charge. And now _he_ had the president. She would be his ticket out.

Before he could make any demands, or even start inching towards the hatch with the president as his shield, the guard stepped forward, his gun still pointing at his head.

“Let her go or I’ll shoot!” the guard yelled.

The woman’s sharp intake of breath caught him off guard, as did the fear in her next words, fear that seemed not to be _of_ him, but _for_ him.

“No,” she breathed, “Eric, no.” She let go of the man’s arm around her throat, and raised both her hands in a gesture for her guard to stop. “Don’t.”

The man was confused. What was happening here? Had he misread this woman? Was she on his side after all? Suddenly his plan seemed to be rash, poorly thought out. Perhaps he needed to step back and re-evaluate. There was, after all, the other prisoner to consider. What would happen to her if he got himself killed? 

But could he trust the woman to extricate him from this standoff he’d caused? He thought perhaps he could, because even now, as the man dropped his arms from around her, she did not move, except to inch a little to the left so that she now stood directly between himself and the barrel of the gun that the guard was still pointing at him.

“Stand down, Eric,” she said, her voice now steady and authoritative, only the tiniest tremor in it betraying a hint of something else underneath.

“But Madam President…”

“He’s not going to hurt me,” she said, reaching a hand behind her. Instinctively, the man took it and held it without quite knowing what to think. Her skin felt soft against his.

He could not understand what was happening but somehow the woman seemed to want him to remain unhurt.

“Lower your weapon,” she said when the guard still seemed to hesitate. “Put it away. Now.” Her voice was firm, authoritative - the voice of someone used to being obeyed.

At last, the guard complied and stood down, placing his weapon back into its holster. As he did so, the woman finally exhaled and her whole body seemed to relax.

Another beat passed and then she slowly turned around to look at the man. A mixture of emotions seemed to be warring in her green eyes, but mostly, the man thought, she looked sad.

“Oh, Bill,” she sighed, shaking her head as she gingerly reached her hand out to touch his cheek. When he flinched at the contact, she instantly drew back.

Suddenly it pained the man to see that despite the calm assurances she had presented to the guard, she was now wary of him.

He looked around the room, from the guard, Eric, who was still staring at him with hard, suspicious eyes, to the other guard, who was holding a tissue to his nose with one hand and hovering his other over his weapon, to the woman behind the glass who was still listening intently via the comm. And finally, his eyes returned to Laura, who was watching him carefully with a combination of hope and caution written across her face.

How could she look at him like that after what he did to her?

“I’m sorry,” he said to the room, nodding first at the man whose nose he bloodied, then at the other guard, then back to Laura. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, just for her. “I think I’d like to go back to the hospital now.”

“Okay.” Laura nodded. “Okay, we’ll go now.” She jerked her head at her guard to open the hatch. “I’ll send someone to relieve you,” she told the bleeding marine as she led the man by the arm through the hatch.

***

“He just…shoved him into me,” Laura told Cottle after Bill was safely ensconced back in his hospital bed with Eric stationed just outside the curtain. “We both fell to the deck and then Bill took off. We found him in the brig where the Cylon is being held.”

The two of them stood just outside the hatch to Life Station, talking quietly so they wouldn’t be overheard, by Bill, or anyone else.

Cottle’s eyebrows shot up. “You think he was looking for her specifically?”

Laura shook her head. “No, I think he just ended up there by accident when he was trying to get away. I don’t know if he was trying to find the hangar bay to steal a viper, or how he thought he was going to get off the ship…” Her voice trailed off as she considered the obvious correlation to that question: or why would he want to?

“Could be he didn’t know he was on a ship in the first place. Underground military bases don’t look much different from this and he’s only had a very limited view of the place.”

Laura nodded, but her mind was already on something else. “The marine guarding the Cylon said he spoke to her over the comm. I want to know what he said to her.”

“You’re going to go see her?”

“Yes, but not yet. I want to talk to him first.” A sound of frustration rose in her throat and she turned on her heel and strode a few paces away, arms swinging as she rounded back on the doctor. “Obviously we were right about him having constructed some kind of story in his head to explain his circumstances. Jack, if you could have seen the look in his eyes when we found him. He was desperate to get away.”

Without waiting for a response, Laura sighed and stepped towards the hatch, her hand already hovering over the turning wheel when Cottle stilled her.

“Are you sure you’re ready to talk to him?” he asked in an uncharacteristically gentle tone. “Maybe you should take a break first. I can keep him company for a while.”

Laura shook her head. No. She had to talk to Bill. It couldn’t be anyone else. Something had happened in the brig. For a moment he had seemed to soften towards her and she couldn’t let it pass now. 

“Laura,” Cottle continued when she would not budge. “What he did to you in there…you know it’s not personal. He doesn’t know who you are.”

Laura nodded weakly. “I know,” she replied, her voice cracking slightly. “I know,” she repeated with more conviction, her hand returning on the wheel of the hatch. “I have to do this, Jack.”

The doctor sighed. “Well, I had to try,” he shrugged, bringing a fresh cigarette to his lips. “The guard stays in the room, though.”

Laura nodded. If she was honest with herself, she preferred it that way for now. Bill was unpredictable and though she did not believe that he would ever truly hurt her, she knew she would not be able to hold him back if he decided to run again. If he did get out, he or someone else could get hurt, as today had already proven.

“I’ll get some rest after Saul’s shift ends and he comes by here,” Laura replied before turning the wheel. “I promise,” she added in response to the skeptical look from the doctor. With that, she finally turned the wheel and pushed the hatch open.

Bill was where they had left him when Laura stepped inside the Life Station and slipped through the curtains to his bedside. His eyes were serious but didn’t appear hostile when they met hers. Cottle had suggested a sedative but Laura had vetoed it. She wanted him to have a clear mind for the talk she was about to have with him.

Without a word, she sat down on the chair that was by now a permanent fixture by Bill’s bed. Then she released a long breath, looking for words to start with.

Bill got there before her.

“I just want to say thank you,” he said, though it seemed to cost him something to speak the words. “For what you did for me out there. I’m sorry for what I did and I…I know I would have deserved that bullet, Madam President.”

_Not you too_ , she sighed inwardly. _Enough with the ‘Madam President’_.

“I’m not really, you know,” she said with a slight smile. “Madam President, that is.”

He looked surprised. Doubtful. This wasn’t a great start.

“I used to be,” Laura hastened to add, “And there are people who still insist on calling me that, but you don’t have to. In fact, I wish you wouldn’t. I’m trying to get the others to stop too.”

Bill nodded. Some of the doubt seemed to clear from his eyes, but Laura could see he was still wary.

“The truth is, Bill, we’ve been at our wits end with you,” she continued, trying to keep her tone easy and conversational. “We still don’t know what exactly happened to you but you’re suffering from amnesia that appears to be pretty much complete. We hoped you would start asking questions on your own that we could then answer to help fill in the blanks, but clearly that method has quite spectacularly backfired.”

She paused, aware that Bill had been listening to her every word with keen interest even though he hadn’t spoken. “So,” Laura finished. “Is there anything you would like to ask me now, or should I just tell you what I think is important?”

“I don’t even know what to ask,” Bill admitted, with a hint of his old rueful smile.

“Okay,” Laura said. “I’ll talk.” She paused, then raised a teasing eyebrow. “Right there is where you would normally make a joke about me talking too much.”

He nodded seriously. “I’ll remember that for the future. We’re…friends, then?”

_Gods_. How could she even begin to summarize their relationship, what they had been to each other in the beginning? What they were now. What they could become if only given half a moment’s peace.

“Yes,” she said at last, balling her hands in her lap to keep from touching him. “We’re friends.” 

She took a deep breath then, and nodded once after piecing together her narrative in her head. “Your name is William Adama. You’re the Admiral of the Colonial Fleet and the Commander of the Battlestar Galactica, which is where we are right now.”

***

Bill listened intently to every word he she said, alternating from rapt attention, to consternation that he had been so wrong about everything, to creeping suspicion that he was still being lied to.

The tale she told was incredible, horrifying on its face, and implausible in its details. Less than 50,000 human lives left in all the universe and he, _he_ , was in charge of their safety. He didn’t even know how to begin to process that.

“The woman, the prisoner I saw,” he asked at one point. “Who is she?”

The woman’s face darkened. “She’s a Cylon. They look like us now. That particular one came to us claiming to have switched sides, and…well it’s a long story and perhaps we can save the details for another time, but needless to say we are still very cautious with her.”

The aging Colonel who came in the evenings was his executive officer and closest friend. The young Commander was his son. His _son_. 

He stopped her after that revelation. His head was spinning with too many details, too many questions. He needed time to think, to be alone.

“Thank you, Laura,” he said when she rose to leave. Her eyes locked onto his and a wave of longing washed over him. Friends. She agreed to the word when he suggested it, but not without some hesitation he pretended not to see. He knew now why. After listening to her story, he realized friends had to be the least of what they were to each other. And that was with the understanding that Laura had probably barely skimmed the surface of all they had been through together.

How could he have forgotten her?

He looked at Laura's back as she prepared to leave, a series of thoughts and questions whirling in his head.

All those thoughts were brought to a standstill, however, as Laura unexpectedly paused and turned to face him again, her hand already gripping the curtain that she was prepared to pull back around the bed.

“Would you prefer to keep these open?” she asked suddenly, tilting her head slightly. “We thought privacy would be for the best but if you’d like…”

“No,” Bill replied quickly. Now that he had already seen the hospital room…the Life Station…he knew it wasn’t much to look at. Besides, right now he did prefer privacy to start mulling over everything Laura had told him.

“Thanks, though,” he added as an afterthought, just as she had turned to leave again. He was gratified by Laura favoring him with one more nod and a quick smile before she was gone.

Not a woman to be easily forgotten, for sure.

Clearing his head, Bill took in a deep breath and began running through again all the details Laura had told him, starting from his name.

_Bill_ …he tried it on for measure, mouthing the name quietly to himself. It felt foreign to him still, but apparently it did belong to him.

_An Admiral of the Colonial Fleet_. The woman in the brig – the Cylon if Laura was to be believed – had called him an admiral, too, so that had to be true. She was on the wrong side of the bars to be intentionally corroborating any story told by her captors.

Besides, Bill had to admit, he _wanted_ to believe Laura. As unbelievable as her story had been, she had told it with no sign dishonesty in her eyes, and if what he suspected was true…

_Oh, gods_ , Bill cringed as he suddenly remembered his earlier attempts at flirtation, trying to get her to fall for him for all the wrong reasons. What must she have thought of him? Had it been a source of amusement or pain to her?

From Laura, his thoughts drifted to the young Commander. Lee Adama. His _son_. How was it possible that he did not remember having a son? Two sons, in fact. An indescribable sensation that was almost like pain gripped his chest as he thought of the other son Laura had mentioned. Zak. Dead and buried following a viper accident.

And there had been a wife too - a wife he had divorced and who had died when Caprica had been destroyed. That finally explained, at least partially, the gold ring he wore, though Bill was at a loss to understand why the ring was still on his finger after divorce _and_ death. He hadn’t asked Laura, either, fearing it could be a touchy subject between them.

Perhaps the man Laura had told him was his friend, Saul Tigh, would know. She had said he would come later to see him.

Bill sighed, sinking back against his pillows. This was going to be a lot to wrap his head around, and right now he could feel a headache coming on.


	14. Chapter 14

_New Caprica_

“For frakssake Starbuck, slow down!” Galen Tyrol called after the blonde jogging ahead of him, her long blonde ponytail swinging in her wake. He struggled to keep up, weighted down as he was by his heavy tool kit.

She stopped and looked back at him, frowning. “You need me to carry that for you, sweetheart? Retirement made you soft?”

“Frak you, Starbuck. You live here too, you think anybody’s going soft down here?” He had caught up to her by that point and they walked companionably side by side for the remainder of the distance to the military airfield.

The guard, recognizing both of them, let them pass with a nod. Galen glanced back, then pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “Security’s getting lax around here. Shouldn’t he have asked questions?”

Kara shrugged. “He knows us, and he knows I’ve got Lee’s permission to poke around. Apollo’s the man these days.”

“Especially with the Admiral out of commission,” Galen added, only to receive an elbow in the ribs.

“No one knows that, jackass,” Kara hissed. “Shut the frak up.”

Having reached the Admiral’s Raptor, Kara hopped up on the wing and opened the hydraulic door, while Galen got down on the ground and wriggled underneath the deck.

***

“Nothing,” Starbuck spat, sometime later as they walked back to camp. “Frakking waste of time.”

Galen shrugged. “I fixed the error code the Admiral reported in the propulsion system, but there’s no way that had anything to do with what happened to him.”

“Which was the frakking point, Tyrol.”

“I know, I know. Hey how is he doing, anyway?” Tyrol had always been fond of the old man. It sucked to think of him up there on Galactica, not knowing who the frak he was.

Kara groaned. “I wish I knew. Lee won’t let me go up to see him until I finish this investigation. Which, I guess I just did.” She threw her hands up in a gesture of hopelessness.

Galen reached out and patted her on the back roughly. “Hey, there’s still the black box. Maybe that’s your ticket.

“Yeah, maybe.” She did not sound hopeful.

***

_Galactica_

“Kara and Tyrol checked out the Raptor yesterday,” Lee told the group at the morning meeting between himself, Laura, Cottle, and Tigh. “Apparently the issue Dad reported was just a standard propulsion error code that Tyrol cleared with no problem. They didn’t find anything else amiss with the Raptor.

It was nothing less than Laura had expected, but that didn’t stop the sharp pang of disappointment in her chest. 

“But,” Lee continued, “there’s still the flight data and voice recorders. I’ve got my guys on Pegasus looking at them, but there’s a lot of hours of data to sort through.”

“Make it your top priority,” Laura ordered, conveniently ignoring the fact that she had no authority to order anyone to do anything, unless they were under eighteen and in her classroom. Luckily Lee was exercising the same selective memory in this case and acknowledged her order with a nod of his head.

“I also have a message from Tory Foster for you ma’am, via Kara. Gaeta’s been poking around the school. Apparently Baltar wants a meeting with you. Gaeta wouldn’t say why. Tory says it’s fine and she’s handling it, but she thought you should know.”

Laura allowed herself a small half smile at what Tory’s version of “handling” Gaeta might look like, and then thanked Lee for the information. “Please tell Lieutenant Thrace that if she or Tory need to impugn my reputation a bit to maintain secrecy, that is perfectly fine with me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lee grinned.

“Doctor,” she said, turning now to Cottle, “how is our patient this morning?”

“Quiet, but…now no interruptions, young lady,” he said, holding up a hand to stop Laura’s questions when she had barely opened her mouth. “I know you’re worried, but he had a traumatic day yesterday, and he’s handling it all damned well in my opinion, but we have to let him deal it in his own way and under his own speed.”

“He seemed better when we were there last night,” Saul spoke up from his usual post to Laura’s left. “Right, Apollo?”

“Yeah,” Lee agreed. “Not like his old self, exactly, but he was trying to relate to us on a personal level, asking questions and really listening to the answers. He even apologized for not remembering me.”

“And that’s all good stuff,” Cottle said. “I just want to caution you _all_ …” he verbally italicised the word all, but looked directly at Laura, “…not to expect smooth sailing. He’s going to have setbacks. I’ll be more worried if he didn’t, because that could be a sign he’s hiding things from us again. We need to be diligent and not let his inner monologue drown us out again.”

“His inner monologue?” Laura asked. 

“Whatever story he made up for himself to explain his circumstances. He tell you about it?”

“No,” Laura said, only now realizing that was true. She had done virtually all the talking with Bill yesterday after they got back to Life Station. She thought it had gone well. It hadn’t even occurred to her that Bill hadn’t offered up his version of events. He had apologized, yes, but not explained.

“That’s something I’m going to broach with him today,” Cottle continued. “I’d like to ask for a couple of hours alone with him before you come down today.”

Laura nodded. She had been hoping to have breakfast with Bill before she went to talk to the Cylon, but she could move things around. “Yes, fine. I’ll wait until 11:00. Is that enough time?”

”Make that 12:00,” the doctor said. ”It might be best not to inundate him with too many visitors in too quick a succession. Give him some time to breathe and then you two can have a lunch date.”

Laura bristled slightly at Cottle’s choice of words but nodded without comment.

“Very well,” she said curtly. “I’ll visit the Cylon prisoner first. I want to know what she and Bill talked about.”

***

The Cylon was lying down in her cell when Laura entered the brig. The guard, a different one today than the one Bill had punched, stepped forward.

“Madam President,” he saluted, seemingly surprised to find her there.

“At ease,” Laura replied. “And no need to call me that. I would just like to talk to the prisoner for a moment.”

The guard nodded a little uncertainly but stood aside, letting Laura proceed towards the comm unit.

The prisoner had already walked over to her side of the internal comm system. When Laura picked up the receiver, the Cylon did the same.

When their eyes met, Laura could not repress a slight shudder. For a moment the unbeckoned thought of Hera…of little baby Isis…threw her focus off, but she resolutely pushed the thought aside. This was about Bill and only Bill.

“You probably know why I’m here,” she spoke coolly into the receiver.

“I’m sure it’s not a social call,” the Cylon replied, matching her tone. She looked guarded. The mutual lack of trust was tangible between them.

“You saw the Admiral yesterday,” Laura said, wanting this discussion to be over as quickly as possible.

The Cylon nodded.

“He spoke to you,” Laura continued. It wasn’t a question, but the prisoner nodded again. “What did he say?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” the Cylon countered. Laura sighed. Perhaps she should have sent someone else to question her.

“I’m asking you,” she said simply.

The Cylon seemed to consider for a moment. Laura could imagine the intricate machine that was her brain, computing the different options she had and their possible outcomes. At last, she spoke again.

“He seemed…strange,” the Cylon said slowly. “He asked me if I was okay. Then he told me he was being kept in a hospital.”

_Being kept_ , Laura wondered. Against his will? Had he considered himself a prisoner like this Cylon?

“Is that all?” Laura asked. Conceivably, they could not have had a long conversation. He had not been missing for long.

“There was one more thing,” the Cylon said, looking curiously at Laura. “He said he was going to get me out of here.”

Laura’s eyes widened slightly, but she quickly reminded herself that Bill had not known that this woman…this _thing_ …was a Cylon. Now that he knew better, surely he wouldn’t…?

It was a risk she couldn’t entirely ignore until they could be sure of the state of Bill’s mind. Yesterday, he had listened, but they still didn’t know enough of what went on in his head. They didn’t know how deep rooted these false impressions were that they had mistakenly allowed to fester.

“Thank you,” Laura said at last, when the Cylon looked at her expectantly. “You have been very helpful. Your…boyfriend may stay a little longer with you today,” she finished before quickly putting away the receiver, shaking her head slightly as she turned away. She still couldn’t believe Captain Agathon could actually think he was in love with this machine, or that Bill was allowing him to visit her so frequently.

Before her lunch “date” with Bill, as Dr. Cottle had so eloquently put it, Laura decided she would give Saul a call. They had better increase the surveillance of the Cylon prisoner just in case, especially as Bill, who physically was now almost completely recovered, would undoubtedly soon be moving about the ship more freely.


	15. Chapter 15

Reclined in a half seated position against his pillows, Bill was growing bored by the constant inaction. The doctor had come and gone. They had talked for nearly two hours and Bill, deciding at least to try and trust Dr. Cottle, had shared with him some of the assumptions he had made over the last week. He had told the doctor that because of the guards, he had thought he was a prisoner, which had raised a number of other concerns such as why he was being imprisoned and by whom, but despite this partial opening up, Bill had still managed to avoid most of the finer details of his earlier fears.

Even though it appeared now that he had been wrong, Bill could not entirely shake the feeling that there was a need for continued secrecy. What if these people had only changed their tactic to gain his trust? He was willing to give them the benefit of doubt, but he could not drop his guard entirely. Not before he could be absolutely sure.

For now, he could only wait for his next visitor. Dr. Cottle had promised that Laura would arrive again by noon and then they would eat lunch together.

“If you can call that lunch,” the doctor had harrumphed as he had walked away to see the man whose leg had been severely injured the day before.

Now, as the clock was close to striking twelve, Bill watched as the hatch cracked open and Laura’s head peeked in. When she saw Bill, sitting on his bed with the curtains drawn aside, she smiled and stepped inside, maneuvering a tray with her.

“Your lunch, Sir,” she said playfully as she walked over to his bed. Bill sat up a little straighter.

He smiled back slowly, tentatively.

“I’d say it smells good, but…”

Laura crinkled her nose. “I know,” she replied, setting down the tray. “We should just be grateful it _doesn’t_ smell.”

“Noodles again?” Bill asked, peering down at the bowls.

“I’m afraid so,” Laura replied, taking a seat.

Bill allowed his eyes to sweep briefly over her as she busied herself with re-arranging the items on the tray. The suit she was wearing, though it looked good on her, appeared to be a little loose around the waist. His earlier impression that she didn’t appear to be eating much was reinforced.

“I hope you’re hungry today,” Bill spoke up after a short silence, picking up one of the bowls and offering it to Laura.

She tilted her head and looked at him quizzically for a moment, but then whatever doubts she might have had seemed to clear and she smiled again. “Thank you,” she said softly as she accepted the bowl. “I’m actually starving.”

*** 

She took a couple of bites, trying to ignore the wormlike texture of her food, as she cast around for a safe mealtime topic. She had spoken to the doctor outside before entering Life Station, and while she did intend to introduce the subject of Bill’s misinterpretations of fact, and hopefully correct any lingering false assumptions about her, jumping right into it didn’t seem very wise.

"So, did you read any more of our book?" she asked at last.

He chuckled. “Is that your way of saying I’m healthy enough to read to myself now?”

She smiled into her bowl. “Well, you do seem much better today. But I’m a school teacher, you know, so reading aloud comes with the territory. I’m still game if you are.”

Bill paused, a forkful of dangling noodles halfway to his mouth. “You’re a teacher? I thought you were a politician?”

“I was a teacher first, before I got into politics,” she explained. “And since I lost the election a few months ago, I am a teacher again, down on the planet.” She knew Lee and Saul had already told him about New Caprica the night before.

She took another bite, watching to see how he processed that information. If only she knew what was going through his head, so she could elaborate as necessary and keep him from assuming the worst.

“So, you don’t live here?” he asked, sounding surprised “On the ship?”

She shook her head, grinning at him, before looking back to her bowl. “No, no, I’m here just for you, you lucky man.”

“Your students’ loss is my gain.”

Her noodles turned to glue in her throat as she quickly looked over at him, fearing she would find that awful forced smile on his face she'd come to dread during his earlier attempts at flirtation. But no, he was busily twirling noodles around his fork and steadfastly not looking at her. Only slight quirk of his lips alerted her that he was aware even of her scrutiny.

She forced the noodles down her throat, and picked up her glass of water, drinking half of it down in one gulp.

“I’ve actually been staying in your quarters,” she said when she could speak again, picking up the previous thread of conversation. “It was Colonel Tigh’s idea. I guess you’ll have to take our word for it that you wouldn’t have minded.”

He nodded as he swallowed. “I believe you.”

“That’s where I got the book,” she continued. “You have quite an extensive library. That’s how…I mean, a shared love of reading is something that helped us break the ice in the beginning.”

He looked up, the look of interest on his face encouraged her to continue. “Your quarters…well you’ll see them soon. There’s something about them that made me feel at home almost immediately, even when we barely knew each other, and didn’t particularly like what we knew. One day after a meeting I blurted out that I’d like to borrow a book sometime. You told me you never lend books, only give them as gifts, but then you selected one for me. It was called Dark Day by…’

“Edward Prima,” Bill finished for her. “I know it…or at least I know of it. I know it exists.” He paused and she could see him struggling to find the words to explain what it was like to remember the fact of a thing without remembering any connection to it. “I know the words, or some of them, but I don’t remember how they made me feel when I read them.”

The admission was almost more than her composure could take, knowing how Bill felt about books, what words meant to him. She cleared her throat “Yes, well. Maybe we can read that one next.”

“Did you like it, at least? My gift?” he asked.

“I did. Very much.” There was more to the story of course, not the least of which was how his gift to her was now back on a shelf in his quarters. But that was a story for another day.

They continued for a moment in silence. Bill had soon finished his noodles and Laura struggled to do the same under his watchful eye.

“You don’t like noodles, do you?” he asked after a while.

Laura looked up from her bowl, finding Bill’s eyes on her – pensive, but warm. So much like the Bill she knew, and yet not quite.

Gods, how she missed him.

Laura cleared her throat again. “Oh, I don’t mind them, really,” she replied, twisting more noodles around her fork. “It’s just the lack of variation.” She lifted the fork into her mouth and chewed.

“What about this planet, this New Caprica?” Bill asked. “Does it not offer any food sources?”

Laura shook her head, swallowing the rest of her noodles. “Very little,” she sighed. “The local vegetation is scarce and has mainly proved to have…” she paused to cough, “… _medicinal_ uses, and what we have sown hasn’t yet produced a harvest. It’s not likely to be plentiful anyway.”

She could have gone on a tirade on how utterly foolish it had been to settle down on the planet in the first place – how the fact that there were no large animals should perhaps have been a clue that the planet did not have the ecosystem to support the kind of life that was necessary for their long term survival – but she held her tongue. None of that meant anything to Bill yet.

Instead, she took her now empty bowl and showed it to Bill with a triumphant gleam in her eyes. “See? All gone now.”

With lunch over, Laura cleared their dishes, then returned to her seat at Bill's side, all the while watching him thoughtfully.

She and Cottle had discussed how best for her approach the subject of Bill's earlier mistaken belief that he was being held captive and that they were his enemies. The doctor favoured a modified good cop/bad cop routine wherein he would ask the tough questions, while she would leave the subject alone and instead concentrate on rebuilding trust.

She didn't think she could do that, told Jack it would be like ignoring a Centurian in the room with its machine gun arms pointed at their heads, while talking about the frakking weather.

_Don't talk about the weather then_ , Jack had advised. _T_ _alk about killing the Centurian, just subtlety so you don't alert it to what you're doing._

Maybe he was right. Maybe. But she had to trust her own instincts and be true to who she was, and who they, she and Bill, were together. She owed him that much.

She inhaled deeply and sat up straighter in her chair, hands gripping the armrests like she was in a plane starting its ascent. "Bill, do you want to tell me about what happened yesterday?"

His head turned toward her. The change in his demeanour was subtle, but immediate, eyes hardening as he seemed to pull back inside himself. She held her breath as she waited for a response and prayed she hadn't just made a huge mistake. 

*** 

The man looked over at the woman with renewed suspicion. Did she really think he wouldn't realize the doctor would run to her with everything he said to him that morning? She must be trying to catch him in a lie. He must be careful to tell them exactly the same story and nothing more...

_No._

On the side of the bed outside of her view, his fingers dug into the mattress, knuckles rubbing hard against worn cotton sheets. He gritted his teeth, as if the darkness, doubt and suspicion were a physical thing he could reject if only he were strong enough.

He forced himself to look at her, to see the woman for who she was. Not a cold and calculating adversary, not a jailer, or a torturer, or an all-powerful enchantress out to destroy him. She was a just a person, a woman who had been nothing but kind to him. He closed his eyes and focussed on his limited memories of her: the warm, smooth sound of her voice as she read to him when he was half asleep; the way her hair bounced about her shoulders when she laughed; her concern for the injured crew member the previous day. The way she held his hand as she stood in front of him and ordered her guard to holster his weapon.

She was not his enemy. When he opened his eyes again, he almost believed it.

"Bill," Laura asked him quietly. "What was that just now?"

He had to force the words through clenched teeth, but he said them. "It is difficult for me to trust you. I am trying." It was not all he needed to say, but the effort cost him much. He fell back against the pillows, suddenly exhausted.

The woman – no, _Laura_ \- looked at him for a moment, her head tilted slightly to the side. It was hard to tell what was on her mind until a soft “thank you” passed her lips.

Bill had not expected it. He sat up again. “For what?” he asked, suspicion and curiosity warring inside.

“For being honest,” Laura replied. “For trying,” she added after a beat. She seemed to consider another moment and then added: “Is there anything I can do to help you trust me?”

Bill relaxed a little, but he still remained wary. Was this a trick? No, no. He could feel the tension creeping back and fought against it. Closing his eyes again, he ran through the same set of memories of Laura that had anchored him before, until he could feel himself grow calmer.

When he opened his eyes, he saw concern clearly written on Laura’s face. Concern for him, he had to remind himself.

“Would you rather I leave?” she asked carefully. “Give you a moment alone?”

Bill shook his head. No. Alone was not good. Other thoughts would come, he was sure of it.

“Tell me about our first meeting,” he said. Maybe that would help – knowing where they had started. He remembered Laura alluding to them not being friends at first.

Laura nodded, venturing a small smile. Bill was certain she looked relieved.

“We met on this very ship,” she began before he could form any other thoughts. “You were the Commander, I was the Secretary of Education. Galactica was about to be decommissioned and turned into a museum.” She paused to give Bill an arch look. “I’m afraid we got into a bit of a row over having a networked computer system set up on Galactica, for the benefit of the museum guests.”

Bill harrumphed, all other concerns suddenly flying out of his mind. Networked computers on a battlestar! Who would even think of doing such a thing?

“Well, I hope I told you that was a stupid idea,” he said, shaking his head. “I can only assume the idea didn’t come from me,” he added.

Something that sounded like a mixture of a snort and a laugh erupted from Laura and she quickly covered her mouth, her eyes still dancing with amusement as she shook her head. “Oh, you certainly let me have it,” she replied. “You must have thought I was a fool, and in the light of subsequent events, I’m inclined to say you were right.” Her mirth gave way to a more wistful look as she sighed a moment later: “It feels like a lifetime ago now.”

Bill wasn’t sure if she had meant to speak the last words out loud. They seemed to be spoken to no one in particular and for a moment Laura had a far away look in her eyes, perhaps lost in a memory they might once have shared.

He couldn’t remember the life he had had, or the people he had lost, but he wondered suddenly if she had lost anyone in those Cylon attacks they had told him about. Had she had a husband? Children?

Would it be too insensitive to ask?

Laura’s eyes caught his as he was looking at her, question meeting question. She smiled a little, encouraging. “Anything else you’d like to know?” she put her question into words.

Bill shook his head. He wouldn’t ask that now. Maybe later.


	16. Chapter 16

Dr. Cottle returned from his lunch break a short time later to find Bill and Laura talking quietly over two steaming mugs of tea. He looked hard at Laura, one eyebrow slightly cocked as he walked by, but didn't stop to talk.

Her eyes followed him as he crossed the room and sat down at his desk, flipping open a file folder. She got the message he meant to convey, but she wasn’t quite sure how to approach the doctor to share what she had observed in Bill without potentially causing him more upset.

“Go,” Bill said softly, breaking her concentration. She blinked, and looked back over at him. “I know you have to talk to him about me. It’s fine. Go.”

“Are you sure? We just want you to get better, Bill. It’s important he know everything,” she said, reassuring him, though it was her, perhaps, who needed the reassurance.

“I know. It’s fine. I _want_ to get better, Laura.” His blue eyes were clear, his face earnest, but there was still an edge hidden just out of sight that she sensed more than saw. Or was she the paranoid one now, seeing things that weren’t even there?

“Go,” he repeated one more time, and this time she stood, giving him a tight half-smile before turning away and walking over to Cottle’s desk. What would she see on his face if she turned back? She decided she didn’t want to know.

“Doctor, could you join me outside for a moment?”

***

 “He’s fighting it then,” Cottle said a few minutes later as they stood just outside the Life Station hatch. He inhaled on his cigarette, thoughtfully.

Laura nodded. “Yes. He seemed to be aware that certain of his thought processes weren’t accurate or healthy and he was actively trying to fight them.”

“And was successful.”

“Yes, but Jack, it seemed to be a near thing at times.” It would be a long time before that haunted look on Bill’s face left her.

“What do you think of letting him go back to his quarters?” Cottle asked suddenly.

Laura’s head jerked up. “I think that’s a terrible idea. Haven’t you been listening to me? He’s afraid to be alone, Jack, and I’m afraid for him. The last thing he needs is to be left alone in his quarters to stew.”

“Who said anything about leaving him alone?”

Laura’s eyes narrowed. “Look doctor, I don’t know what you think you know about the Admiral’s and my relationship, but…”

Cottle snorted, and held up a hand. “Relax. I’m not suggesting you cohabitate. I meant, maybe we start letting him spend some time during the day in his own quarters. You can visit there as well as here – with the guards – and being among his own belongings could be beneficial. He can come back here to sleep at night until everyone is more comfortable leaving him alone.”

Laura opened her mouth to argue, then snapped it shut. That was actually a good idea.

"Okay," she said. "I'll take him now."

***

"So, here we are," Laura said, stepping over the hatch and gesturing at the room. She was followed closely by Bill, with the ever-present guard bringing up the rear.

Bill walked past her into his quarters, wandering around the space slowly, touching things here and there, reading book titles, looking at photographs, picking up knick-knacks and returning them carefully to their original positions. His face was unreadable, showing no hint of recognition, no pleasure at what he saw.

Laura hung back, just inside the hatch and watched him anxiously. What was going through his head right now? Was he looking at the room approvingly? Did it call to him somehow? Or was it just a room, impersonal, the home of a stranger he had no real desire to know?

But he was nodding when he finally turned to her. "I have a lot of stuff," he said, a small smile bringing warmth to his eyes.

She burst out laughing, folding over on herself, nerves propelling her amusement far out of proportion to what he had said. "Yes, yes you do."

She approached him now, and together they moved from the public to the more private area of the rooms. "Do you like it?" she asked finally, bizarrely needing _this_ Bill to approve of _her_ Bill's choices in decor.

"I do," he said. "I think..." His voice trailed off, and she followed his gaze, her face reddening when she saw what had captured his attention.

_Frak_ . Her mind on her impending visit with the Cylon, she had failed to tidy up before leaving that morning. The blankets lay in a twist on the rack, the pillows askew, and worst of all, her silk nightgown was tossed haphazardly across the top of it, discarded as she went for her shower. She fought the urge to snatch it up and hide it behind her back, like some shy maiden.  

"I'm a bit of a slob," she admitted, with a rueful laugh. "Don't worry, though, now that you're going to be spending time here, my sleepwear and I will move to guest quarters."

"No," he said immediately. "Don't. I won't really be living here for awhile yet. I want you to stay."

Laura smiled. “If you’re sure,” she replied, taking a few controlled steps over to the bed to straighten the pillows and then pull a cover over the twisted sheets and the nightgown.

When she stood back again and turned around, she found Bill standing much closer than she had calculated. So close that she could almost feel his warm breath on her face.

A beat passed, his eyes surveying hers while a variety of emotions seemed to pass his own irises. Then, finally, the edge in them seemed to melt away as one emotion took precedence over the others.

“I’m sure,” he replied in a raspy voice, the tips of his fingers lightly grazing Laura’s arm, setting off goose flesh in their wake.

_Gods_ ,  _how does he do that?_ She closed her eyes for a moment, reminding herself of how this was the opposite of what should be happening. It did not take long to set her mind straight.

“Well, if you change your mind, I can move at a moment’s notice,” she replied, smiling a little apologetically as she pulled her arm away and took a step back. “I have very little to pack, so it won’t be a problem at all.”

Bill nodded. He made no attempt to follow Laura as she moved over to the bookshelf, busying herself with putting away a couple of books she had left lying around. When she found it in herself to look at him again, she was relieved to find that the hard edge had not returned to his eyes.

He seemed, however, to be more curious about her than the room which, in turn, made Laura feel self-conscious.

“Would you like to sit down?” she offered, finding more items to tidy up by the desk. “The couch is actually very comfortable,” she added as she gathered the students’ tests she had been marking the night before and started arranging them into a neat pile.

“Sure,” Bill replied, obediently walking over to the couch and sitting down. He watched Laura for a while before breaking the silence again: “Can I ask you something?”

Laura paused. An unprompted question? This was still rare. She left the essays and followed Bill to the couch, taking a seat next to him.

“Anything,” she replied eagerly. “You can ask me anything and I’ll answer you if I know the answer.”

Bill hesitated still. “It’s personal,” he warned her.

Laura glanced up, calculating the distance to the guard who stood by the hatch. Was this a conversation she wanted him to hear? Would he be able to hear it over the static hum of the ship if they kept their voices low? She made up her mind.

“Eric?” she called for the guard. “Would you mind stepping outside?”

“But Madam President…” the guard argued, his eyes darting to Bill.

“I’m sure we’re both quite safe in here,” Laura replied in a tone that left no room for arguments. “We won’t be very long anyway. Commander Adama will be arriving soon from the Pegasus and will want to see the Admiral.”

She could tell the guard still had doubts – doubts which she herself was working hard to push aside - but instead of voicing them, he gave her a salute and stepped out, accepting the order she had given him.

As soon as the hatch was closed again, Laura returned her attention to Bill and almost regretted sending Eric away. His eyes had hardened again and his hands were gripping the leather of the couch.

“Bill?” she tried carefully. “It’s just me,” she said when he turned to look at her. “It’s just me.”

“Laura,” he said, almost through gritted teeth.

“Yes, Laura,” she hummed softly, returning his gaze without flinching. “You wanted to ask me something?”

This seemed to make Bill relax a little. Gradually, his grip on the couch seemed to ease.

“Something personal?”  she prompted some more, keeping her tone calm.

Bill nodded. He seemed almost to have returned to normal again – or what passed for normal in his current condition.

“Yeah,” he rasped at last. “Laura,” he repeated her name again as if speaking the name gave him comfort. “You and me,” he hesitated, now all Bill again. “Were we…ever a couple?”

“Oh,” Laura mouthed. She was not sure what she had expected when Bill had said he wanted to ask something personal, but she realized she definitely _should_ have seen this question coming.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” Bill began, but Laura lifted her hand and shook her head, silencing him.

“No, no, it’s a fair question,” she replied quickly. Then, coloring a little, she added: “It’s just not very simple to answer.” She paused and took a deep breath. “You see, I was the President and you were the Admiral…”

“A conflict of interest,” Bill quickly filled in the blank.

Laura nodded. “Yes,” she replied. “So, whether we might have, under different circumstances…”

“But you’re not president now?” Bill pointed out.

“That’s correct,” Laura replied, straightening her suit jacket, not trusting herself to meet Bill’s eyes right away.

“But as you see,” she said at last, smiling a little ruefully when she finally looked at Bill again. “It’s kind of complicated.”

***

Bill wondered how anything could possibly be complicated enough to have kept him from falling in love with this woman. Losing entire worlds and billions of lives should have clarified what was really important to a man, but that didn’t seem to have been the case for the previous version of himself.

“While it’s true I’m not the president any longer,” Laura continued, “and the current president feels that Cylon threat is over, we…that is you and I…are not so convinced.” She was choosing her words carefully, and Bill wasn’t sure if that was because she was trying to be diplomatic, or if she wanted to let him down easy, or if she was hiding something else.

“We…I…think the Cylons are coming back?” he asked. He could feel something tingling in the back of his mind, the beginnings of a headache, a memory just out of reach, or perhaps just the darkness playing tricks. He would not let it distract him.

Laura nodded slowly. “We think it’s a very good possibility. This settlement wasn’t our decision, Bill. I lost the election over it. I…we…still think it was a very bad idea for innumerable reasons, and…oh frak it,” she cursed, standing up and stalking away for a few steps before returning to sit on the coffee table facing him, her hands interlaced on her knee.

“Bill,” she said. “The current president, Gaius Baltar, is egotistical, indolent, short-sighted fool who couldn’t lead his lunch out of a paper sack. He won the presidency because he promised the fleet solid ground, but that ball of mud and rock down there is barely habitable! People are already beginning to realize they made a mistake. And if…when…the Cylons come back…well, the fleet will need real leadership again.” She flung her hands up in the air. “We’re it!”

If she had been talking about anything other than the bleak future of the human race with that fiery passion, Bill would have happily listened to her for hours. But the subject was a sobering one, and he could almost understand the reason why she, and apparently he, had chosen to put survival first.

“You want to be the president again,” he said.

It wasn’t a question, but it still brought her up short. “It’s…no," she said, shaking her head. "Want doesn’t come into it. If the fleet needs me, I have no choice. I couldn’t turn my back on all those people. I mean, Bill, in just the short time you remember, how have people treated me? What do they call me?”

He nodded, understanding. “You’re their leader, already and always, with or without the official seal.”

She nodded. “Right! Yes, right. And so are you. That’s who we are, and anything we could be to each other, would always come second to that responsibility.”

“Complicated,” he said, nodding.

“Yes.”

“But not off the table.”

Laura sighed, but didn’t answer, refusing to meet his eyes.

Suddenly, he understood. “It wasn’t off the table while I was still…myself.”

She looked squarely at him now, one hand lifting slightly, drifting into the air between them before ultimately falling back to her lap, comfort unoffered. “Bill, I just don’t think there is anything to be achieved by having this conversation right now. You need to concentrate on getting better. It would be a mistake to complicate things even further, when everything is already so unsettled.”

He knew she was right. He hadn’t meant to stir things up, had genuinely just been trying to understand their relationship, understand why this woman who didn’t even live on this ship would leave her home and her job to come and sit by his bedside for days on end. But now that the possibilities were hanging in the air between them like ripe fruit on a tree, he wanted a taste.

He reached out, meaning to touch her face with his fingertips, just for a minute, more than half expecting her to move back out of reach. She didn’t. Instead she tilted her head until her cheek was flat against his palm, a sound escaping her that was half hum and half sigh.

A loud knock echoed through the room a half second before the wheel to the hatch started to spin.

 


	17. Chapter 17

The knock had startled her, but it was only the metallic screech of the turning wheel that jolted Laura into full action. She sprang to her feet almost instantly, but she was still too slow to react. She was in motion, Bill’s hand half in the air, when the hatch swung open and Dr. Cottle stepped in.

Laura could immediately see from the look on the doctor’s face that she had been a fraction too late. He might have missed Bill’s hand caressing her face, but he had certainly seen her jump up at a speed and alacrity that made her look as guilty as if they had been caught horizontal on the couch. As a teacher she had seen too many teenagers hastily pull apart as she walked in on them to know exactly how this had looked. She and Bill had been caught red handed.

“Dr. Cottle,” she said with all the formality she could muster, aware that her cheeks were probably burning red. Whether it was from the touch of Bill’s hand or the guilt for having been caught, she didn’t want to think about now.

The doctor harrumphed, giving Laura a look that made it clear to her they would talk about this later.

“I see you’ve helped the Admiral get…comfortable in his quarters,” he said raising an eyebrow. “But I was surprised to find the guard standing outside.”

“We had private matters to discuss,” Laura replied, looking at the doctor levelly. She suddenly felt like she was fifteen again, being confronted by her father after sneaking out to make out with a boy.

“I can see that, young lady,” Cottle replied dryly, only enhancing the impression. Then, nodding at the guard who had barged in with him, probably concerned about Laura’s safety, he spoke to the young man: “I think you can wait outside. We’ll all be stepping out soon as well.”

“Yes, Sir,” the guard replied, closing the hatch behind him as he exited the quarters again.

Laura frowned, looking at the doctor curiously. She was not a blushing schoolgirl and he was not her father. They had only just got here and the plan had been to wait in Bill’s quarters until Lee arrived from the Pegasus. “We’ll be stepping out?” she asked, crossing her arms and then glancing back at Bill who still sat on the couch, his hands now clasped together on his lap. He looked curious, too, but the sudden action didn’t seem to have brought on another bout of hostility in him. She smiled at him slightly and he smiled back.

“Well, unless you two have something more important to do,” Cottle replied, giving Laura a pointed look when she turned to face him again. “But you might like to know that Colonel Tigh received a transmission from the Pegasus a while ago.” He paused, looking from Laura to Bill, as if considering whether he should continue with Bill in the room.

Clearly aware that he had been the cause of the hesitation, Bill cleared his throat and stood up as well. “I would like to know what this is about,” he said, stepping forward to stand beside Laura.

Laura nodded. If this was about Bill, perhaps it would be best for him to be involved. If he still had issues with trust, being included in discussions that concerned him might actually be helpful.

“I leave you two alone for twenty minutes…” Cottle grumbled, puffing out smoke from the cigarette he had taken the opportunity to light during his pause. “Well, perhaps you should know,” he said then, looking at Bill, “since it’s your head we’re trying to sort out here.”

Laura couldn’t take the stalling any longer. “What is it?” she asked impatiently. “Has there been any news from the Pegasus? Lee said in the morning they were going through the flight data from Bill’s Raptor.” She turned to Bill and gave him a brief account of why they were interested in the Raptor. Then she looked at the doctor again. “Well?” she asked.

“They found something,” Cottle said. “It’s not much, but enough that Lee thinks it might be important.”

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense, Doctor,” Laura said. “What is it? What did they find?”

“I think it’s best if you hear for yourself. Lee sent the audio to Tigh in CIC. Pick up that comm unit over there, give him a jingle, and he’ll play it for you.”

With a quick glance at Bill, Laura did as the doctor instructed, crossing the room and dialing CIC. A moment later, Saul was playing her the pertinent portion of the voice recording from Bill’s Raptor

At first she heard almost nothing: static-like engine noise, the faint electronic beeping of presumably normal Raptor operations, something that could have been Bill clearing his throat. She looked to the doctor and raised her eyebrow, about to ask what it was she should be listening for, when she heard it. 

Bill swore. Loudly. Just once. The epithet was followed by several seconds of loud banging, and then silence, or at least what passed for silence in the cockpit of a Raptor.

Colonel Tigh returned to the line and she asked him to play it again, and then again. After her third time through, she handed the receiver to Bill so he could listen.

He was stony faced for the preliminaries, but around the time she judged he should be hearing his exclamation, his eyes squeezed closed and his knuckles turned white on the receiver. A couple of seconds later, eyes open again, he returned the receiver to Laura, wordlessly walking back to sit alone on the couch, his hand rising to rub the back of his neck as he went.

_“Madam President? Madam President!”_ Belatedly, Laura became aware that Colonel Tigh was shouting at her through the comm she still held up in mid-air. She gestured quickly to Cottle, then pointed to the couch before returning the receiver to her ear.

“Sorry Colonel. Please have Commander Adama follow up with Lieutenant Thrace and Chief Tyrol on the planet. I want that Raptor brought back to Galactica so it can be checked over with all the specialized equipment at our disposal. I don’t care if they have to break it down into pieces the size of cubits; I want to know what caused the Admiral’s outburst.” She paused, listened for a moment. “Yes, that’s all. We’ll meet in the morning as per usual. Goodbye, Colonel.” 

When she looked up, it was to find Cottle had joined Bill on the couch where they were now conversing quietly.

“Is everything okay over here, hmm?” she asked, walking over to stand in front of them.

“Everything’s fine,” Cottle said. “Bill here just had a little moment after hearing himself on the tape. Any one of us would feel damned peculiar in the same situation.”

Bill had stopped talking and was currently refusing to look at her, his hands gripping the edges of the couch on either side of him as if he was about to rip two palm-sized chunks from the seat cushions.

Cottle seemed to notice the same thing. “What do you say to going back to Life Station for some downtime, Admiral?” he suggested.

Bill didn’t answer, but he did stand, which seemed to be answer enough. Laura stepped back to let him pass, their eyes catching on his way by like rough skin catching on delicate fabric, ripping painfully as they separated.

“I’ll stop by later,” Laura said, too quietly for anyone to hear.

***

The man slept poorly that night, dreams sent by the darkness sneaking up and catching him unawares. 

_He was happy, whirling along in space toward the world of colour, of blue, and green, and bright, fluttering red. He was happy. Then suddenly, pain: pain pressing, pain holding him down, pain whispering, pain screaming. He tried to jerk away, legs thrashing, heels drumming against the deck but it was useless. He was caught. The pain gave him over to the darkness and the darkness pulled him down._

***

"He slept so restlessly I had to give him a mild sedative after midnight," Cottle told Laura the next morning. He looked like he had barely slept a wink himself. "He'll likely be sleeping for a couple of more hours yet."

Laura could feel the uneasiness she had held in the pit of stomach since yesterday return in full force. She had not forgotten the look on Bill's face when they last parted, but until hearing the doctor's latest update, she had hoped that it would have been just a passing thing - like the earlier bursts he had been able to fight off after a short struggle.

How could simply hearing a recording have set him off so badly? Had that even been the cause? What if the real catalyst had been the private moment he had shared with her just minutes before? Laura didn't want to believe it, but she couldn't entirely reason away the possibility either. If his emotions were so unstable, who knew what could set him off?

"Do you think hearing his own voice could have done that?" she asked the doctor at last, her voice laced with uncertainty.

"Maybe," Cottle replied, sinking into a chair with a deep sigh. He eyed Laura for a moment and then continued: "Most probably it's a number of things. He's clearly been struggling with some kind of aggression or doubt even after we were able to clear some of his misunderstandings. He's managed to keep it mostly under control, but you know as well as I do there have been moments he’s been close to losing it. Perhaps reliving the moment when something bad happened to him, even if he can't remember it on a conscious level, might have tipped him over the edge."

Laura closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I should have been more careful,” she chastised herself. “I shouldn’t have…”

“You can say that again,” Cottle interrupted her with a snort. When Laura opened her eyes, she found him looking at her pointedly. “I mean that for your own sake as well, young lady. I’ve told you this before and I’m telling you again, when he lashes out, it’s not personal. Don’t make it personal.”

“I’m not…” Laura began, but the doctor was not yet finished.

“Any part of it, Laura,” he said, his features softening.

Laura opened her mouth again to speak but then closed it. She wasn’t sure she liked where this was going.

“Now, I don’t think whatever was going on between the two of you when I came in was what set him off, if that's what you're afraid of,” Cottle continued, his tone kind despite the slight edge. “But it isn’t going to cure him either. You would do well to remember that.”

Laura took in a measured breath and watched as the doctor fumbled with his cigarette lighter, eager to look away and pretend he had never opened his mouth, now that he had said his piece. Under different circumstances she might even found humor in his avoidance, but now she could only manage a faint smile. Gods forbid that anyone ever found out that the grumpy old doctor actually cared.

“Thank you, Jack,” she said at last when she knew she had her voice under control again, despite the insistent moisture that threatened to gather in the corners of her eyes even though she kept blinking it away. “I will take that under advisement.”

Cottle had only time to mutter something half-intelligible in response, when a knock on the hatch signalled the arrival of the guests they had been awaiting.

A moment later, Saul stepped in with Lee in tow and Laura stood up from behind her desk in full presidential mode again, wasting no time on chit chat in order to go through the latest developments with the Colonel and the Commander.

“We’re expecting Lieutenant Thrace and Chief Tyrol to dock on Galactica later this morning,” Lee told the room soon after Cottle had first repeated his update on Bill. “We’ll go through that Raptor inch by inch until we find another clue,” he promised.

“Make sure that you do,” Laura replied, nodding her head in approval. “Colonel Tigh?” she then turned to address the Colonel. “Any news from the ground?”

Saul shrugged. “Baltar is growing impatient but I told him we’re limiting traffic in and out of Galactica until we can contain the terrible fever outbreak that’s had the Admiral take to his bed.”

“Good…having Dr. Cottle on board should reinforce that story,” Laura replied.

“Lieutenant Thrace and Chief Tyrol flying in might raise some suspicions, though,” Cottle pointed out.

“Well, they’re not leaving until we figure out what’s wrong with Bill, so just add them to the quarantined list,” Saul replied. “We’re putting an end to this now, once and for all.”

Laura could only hope he was right or they might all find themselves in deeper trouble soon.


	18. Chapter 18

Bill awoke to the sound of Dr. Cottle relieving his guard and pushing the curtain aside. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” he said. “You had a rough night. How do things look in the morning?”

Bill grunted and struggled to sit up straighter. “My head hurts, and I’m thirsty,” he complained, voice still hoarse from sleep.

“That’s a hangover from the sedative I gave you last night,” Cottle said. “Do you remember that?”

He did, vaguely. He had woken up sweating and shaking, plagued by nightmares that faded from memory as soon as he opened his eyes. The unease that remained was more persistent. The doctor had offered a sedative and he had grudgingly accepted the opportunity to escape his own head.

The doctor passed him a glass of water and a painkiller which he threw down his throat before he could think too hard about it. If these people wanted to kill him with headaches remedies, they’d had numerous opportunities already.

“You have a visitor, if you’re up for it,” the doctor said.

He looked up over his glass of water. “Laura?”

The doctor nodded. “Woman’s a bit of a mother hen, but don’t tell her I said that. You worried her yesterday.”

Bill nodded. He remembered the look in her eyes when they had parted the day before and he knew the pain in them had been because of him. But at the time he hadn’t seen Laura. He had seen a cold and calculating woman trying to trick him into revealing his secrets.

Shame washed over him.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said at last. “I – I don’t know what came over me.”

“Well, you can talk to her now if you feel up to it,” the doctor replied. “She came with me but I told her to wait outside until I checked how you were doing.”

_ If I was still a danger to her,  _ Bill’s mind translated the unspoken communication. He didn’t want to hurt Laura. No, he was sure that even yesterday he wouldn’t have, and yet…it had taken all he had in him to keep his hands gripping the couch cushions instead of closing them around someone’s – anyone’s – throat. It could even have been Laura’s, and somehow he was sure she had known it.

He had to apologize.

“Bring her in,” Bill said quietly, looking thoughtfully at his now steady hands. He should be happy she was still willing to see him at all. Was it because he was such an important leader, like she had said, that she couldn’t afford to give up on him, or was there more to it?

Bill looked up from his hands when he heard the hatch open and close, but there was no Laura yet. The doctor must have stepped outside to talk to her first. Something inside Bill stirred at the thought but he pushed it away quickly before it could take hold of him. Of course they were talking about him. He had given them every reason to. The hatch would open again any minute now and he would see Laura again.

Bill’s shoulders had barely begun to relax when the hatch did open and in came Laura, her eyes falling on him as soon as she entered the room. She wore a faint smile that widened a little when Bill smiled back, but her expression remained more guarded than it had been yesterday. She looked tired, too, as if the night hadn’t brought her much rest.

“Dr. Cottle tells me you’re feeling better this morning,” Laura began before Bill could say anything, the look in her eyes not matching the levity of her voice. She had reached his bedside now and sat gingerly down on the edge of the chair that had been left there.

“I am,” Bill replied gravely. She was afraid of him, or for him, and he felt powerless before her. He longed to see the Laura again who had showed him his own quarters – who had blushed at the sight of her unmade bed and shivered under his touch. He wanted to go back to that moment when, for a few stolen seconds, everything had felt right even though he couldn’t explain why.

He reached his hand out for her. A peace offering.

“I’m sorry, Laura,” he spoke in the same subdued tone he had addressed the doctor with earlier. “I hope you can forgive me.”

Laura’s eyes fell on his outstretched hand before they seemed to dart towards the now closed hatch. Her hands remained clasped together around her knee but her expression softened.

“You’ve done nothing that needs to be forgiven, Bill,” Laura replied, shifting in her chair so that she now sat a little more comfortably. “None of this is your fault and we’re doing everything we can to figure out what’s wrong.” She paused for a moment. Their eyes met again and Bill held her gaze, willing her to see the earnestness in his.

Laura lips quirked slightly in response and she nodded almost imperceptibly. Then her face grew serious again. “Can you tell me what happened?” she asked, leaning forward. “Was it that recording, or was it something I said or did?”

He wished he knew the answer to her question, but he didn’t, not entirely. His brain seemed to function, at times, on a level that was inaccessible to his conscious mind. But he could reassure her of one thing.

“Laura,” he said quietly, “I don’t always understand the things I do or the feelings that come over me, but I do know this. You are not responsible for any of the…bad times. You’re the opposite of the darkness. You’re the light. Please don’t give up on me.”

***

Laura shook her head immediately and firmly, sitting up on the edge of her chair and offering her hand. “If you remembered me from before, you would know that I don’t give up easily. It’s not even an option here, Bill.”

When he accepted her hand and their fingers twined, she gave him what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze. “So yesterday?” she prompted again. “How did hearing that transmission make you feel? Do you remember?”

“Not really,” Bill admitted. “I remember we were having a nice conversation in my quarters…” 

He paused, catching her eye, his thumb beginning to stroke along the side of hers. She smiled, but didn’t comment, not wanting to get off track. This thing between them, so much closer to the surface than it had ever been, with Bill now refusing to play their game of avoidance, was going to have to be dealt with sooner or later. She tended to agree with the doctor’s assessment that romance wasn’t going to help Bill, and might even hurt his progress. If they were unable to find a quick fix, he would have to relearn everything in his life, and eventually she would have to go back to the surface. Where would that leave him, emotionally? Where would it leave her?

She blinked, breaking their eye contact. “And then the doctor arrived,” she reminded him, “with news from Lee.”

“Right,” he said. “I watched your face while you were listening to the recording. The surprise when you first heard it and then the intense concentration and anxiety when you listened again. You were terrified for him.”

She tipped her head to the side. “Bill. ‘Him’ was you; you understand that, right? I was, I am, concerned about what happened to  _ you _ on that recording.”

“I understand that in theory, but practically, even after hearing it, I have no memory of it happening.” His thumb stopped moving against hers and he unlaced their fingers, bringing his hand up to rub his face and the back of his neck. 

“No memory of it happening, but how did hearing it make you feel?”

He looked over to her, hand still massaging his nape. “Angry. It made me angry.”

Laura nodded. She had seen that with her own eyes. But  _ why _ had it made him react like that? She had a feeling that even Bill probably didn’t know.

“Can you tell me what made you so angry?” she asked anyway, holding her breath.

Bill shook his head. “No. I’ve tried to make sense of it but I can’t,” he replied. ”Suddenly I was just filled with rage and I was certain all of you were conspiring against me, just like I thought when I first woke up with no memory of who I was or who you were.”

Laura released her breath. When she closed her eyes she could still see the look of undisguised fear on his face when he had first opened his eyes and looked at her – and then the quiet calculation and the forced smiles that had come later, all part of this strange paranoia that seemed to still have a hold over him.

Opening her eyes again, she found Bill looking at her gloomily– but looking so much like himself that it only served to remind Laura, even putting all other possible feelings aside, how much she simply missed their companionship. How many times she had wished during the past week that she could have just talked to him about what was going on. Jack, though he had been an invaluable friend and ally through this, was not the same as having Bill as her sounding board.

“We’ll get through this,” she said at last, squeezing Bill’s hand again, not sure if she was trying to reassure him or herself. “If there is any clue inside that Raptor that can shed light to what happened, we’ll find it.”

When Bill didn't reply, Laura looked up at him and was surprised to find him staring ahead, his other hand still on the nape of his neck. He seemed strangely absent but didn’t appear to be displaying any other alarming signs.

“Is there something on your neck?” she asked after a beat, frowning a little as she released his hand and leaned closer to look.

It was a mistake.

Instantly Bill’s hand flew off his neck and Laura jumped back in her chair as his eyes flared with sudden fury. For a fraction of a second she feared he might strike her, but then Bill’s hand fell to his side and he looked as horrified as Laura at what he had almost done.


	19. Chapter 19

“What are we even looking for?” Kara Thrace sighed in frustration as she kicked away another piece of equipment that had provided them no information other than that it should have been replaced with a newer part several flights ago. “This Raptor is a piece of junk but if that was cause for amnesia we’d all be down in sickbay with the Old Man.”

“If we knew what it was, we wouldn’t need to look for it,” Galen pointed out patiently, unscrewing another piece for closer inspection.

“What if there’s nothing and we’re just pulling apart a perfectly good Raptor for no reason?” Kara argued, plopping down on the pilot’s seat.

“You heard the recording,” the former Chief replied, looking at the piece of the dashboard he had just removed and then tossing it aside, shaking his head. “Something happened during that flight.”

“I know, I know,” Kara groaned, pushing herself up again and returning to her work. “But this is like looking for a needle in a haystack. Lee had better get his ass over here to help like he promised.”

“My ass is all yours, Starbuck,” Lee said smartly, appearing as if summoned in the open hatchway of the Raptor.

“Not quite,” Kara muttered, as the gold of Lee’s new wedding ring caught her eye. “There’s certainly enough of it to go around these days,” she added loudly, puffing out her cheeks.

Tyrol looked from one to the other, then chose to ignore the undercurrents. That was usually the best choice, in his experience. “Good to see you, Apollo,” he said, coming to attention as best he could in his current folded over position.

“Relax, Chief,” Lee said. “You’re a civvie now, remember?” He paused to look around him at the strewn bits of metal and wiring all around them. “You two going to be able to put this thing back together when we’re done?” he asked doubtfully.

“Is that a priority?” Kara asked.

Lee shook his head. “No. It would be preferable, but no. Finding out what happened to Dad is the priority.”

“If there’s anything to find, we’ll find it, Sir,” Tyrol said, struggling to his feet, and stretching out his legs. “How’s the Old Man doing?”

Lee shook his head, coming to stand behind the pilot’s seat Kara had just vacated. “Physically, he’s fine,” he said. “Mentally…he doesn’t remember anything before waking up here a few days ago, and that’s not even the worst part. It’s almost like he’s got some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder. It reminds me of some of our guys after the attacks…paranoid, angry…but at least then there was an obvious cause.” He paused, running his hands up and down the upholstery of the seat in front of him. “My mother was bipolar,” he said. “When she was off her meds, you never knew what might set him off. It was like walking on eggshells all the time. That’s kind of how I feel with Dad now.”

Tyrol and Kara stared at him, not really knowing what to say, and before either of them came up with anything, Lee blinked, then shook his head. “Anyway, where do you want me to start?” he asked, hands still sweeping over the worn leather of the seat, pausing to pick at a small rip with his fingernail. “Gods, even the frakking seats in this thing are starting to fall apart.”

***

“They’ve got all the equipment from the Raptor stripped out and lying on the deck of the hangar bay,” Colonel Tigh reported to Laura over the Life Station comm unit. “And they haven’t found a single frakking thing that could explain what happened.”

“So they’re…what? Giving up?” she said incredulously. “After three frakking hours? I don’t think so, Colonel. If they didn’t find anything in the equipment, tell them to start pulling up the decking!”

There was a pause on the other end before Saul Tigh’s voice filled her ear again, brimming with rare approval. “Yes, ma’am, I will give them that message.” 

Laura hung up the comm and returned to Bill’s bedside. “That didn’t sound very promising,” he said quietly. She knew he was still dwelling on their earlier conversation, and his reaction to her simple question about his neck. Truthfully she was as well, and she intended to ask the doctor when he returned whether Bill’s neck could have been injured in some way when he fell.

“Oh, don’t you worry,” she said with a smile. “We’re only getting started.” She picked up the book from the seat of the chair where she left it, and sat, opening it again in her lap. “Now, where were we?”

After finding their spot, Laura continued to read out loud for a while, relieved to see Bill gradually growing more relaxed and even starting to comment on the characters and the plot development until it almost felt like nothing had ever been wrong.

At any other time she could have spent all day like that, reading with Bill, but as time passed and no new call came from the CIC, Laura found herself growing restless again. What was taking so long? Why had they not found anything?

When the hatch finally opened, Laura’s head shot up and she looked around with renewed hope, only to find Dr. Cottle stepping in alone. As soon as their eyes met, he shook his head to signal he brought no news.

“Nothing?” Laura asked, her shoulders sagging.

“Nothing,” Cottle confirmed, looking from Laura to Bill and then back at Laura. “I've just been there to order them to take a break, because they’re not going to find anything once their concentration starts slipping, but don't worry, they’ll be back at it again soon with new energy.”

“How did it look?” Laura asked, trying not to sound too disappointed.

“Didn’t look much like a Raptor anymore except from the outside,” Cottle replied, “but that’s not really why I’m here. They’ll report to you as soon as there’s any news, _if_ there's any news, but you two have been holed up here all day and it would probably be better for both of you stretch your legs a bit.”

Laura looked at Bill. He had expressed no wish to go elsewhere all day and still didn’t seem to be completely over his earlier outburst that apparently had shaken him even more than it had shaken her, but she agreed with Cottle. It would do him good to walk a little, and it would do her good as well. The chair she had been sitting on for over four hours now wasn’t exactly comfortable and her back and neck were beginning to complain.

“What do you say, hmm?” she asked Bill, closing her book. “We could go see your quarters again and pick our next book.”

Bill looked a little hesitant. Laura wondered if he was as afraid as she was that something might happen that he had no control over.

“I think that’d be nice,” he said at last, looking from Laura to Dr. Cottle as if looking for a confirmation that this was a good idea. Laura’s eyes followed his.

“Will you be joining us?” she asked, half-expecting the doctor to announce he intended to chaperone them.

Cottle shook his head. “I would, but I have a call scheduled with nurse Ishay on the ground. She needs a consultation so you two will have to make do without me. A great loss, I’m sure,” he concluded dryly. “But I do want a word with you before you go,” he added, looking at Laura pointedly. 

Some unexpected note in his voice abruptly drew Laura’s eyes to him, but he had already turned to Bill. “Perhaps if you don’t mind, Admiral, you could walk ahead with our fearless guard and then Laura will join you in a moment. If you don’t knock his teeth in on the way there, you can even leave him outside the hatch when you get to your quarters."

Laura rounded on the doctor as soon as the hatch clicked closed. “Okay, what did they really find?”

Eyes hard, Cottle stared at her for long moments. If he wondered how she knew he was lying, he didn’t bother to ask. After a moment, he reached into his breast pocket and retrieved a cigarette. “Better for you to see it. They’re waiting for us in the hangar bay.” He lit his smoke, inhaling deeply, before following Laura to the hatch.

***

“You know, if I don’t show up in a few minutes, it might set him off,” Laura told Cottle as they hurried along the corridors leading to the hangar bay.

“I know, but this is the lesser of the evils, believe me. We can’t show him this.”

They walked into the hangar bay to find Kara, Tyrol, Tigh, and Lee all standing amongst a vast assortment of electronic equipment and metal plating that Laura assumed used to be the innards of the Raptor looming behind them.

Tyrol, leaning against a nameless chunk of metal, saw her first. “President on deck,” he announced, straightening up.

Laura didn’t even bother to correct him. What did it even matter, anyway? They all knew the facts; they just didn’t care. “At ease,” she snapped. “What did you find?”

The other four backed away from where they were standing, revealing the back of an ordinary looking pilot’s seat. Or rather, it was ordinary until Tyrol ushered her around to the front and pointed. “That’s what we found, ma’am.”

The leather upholstery had been stripped from the backrest portion of the chair, revealing an odd conglomerate of fluid, metal and wires, all encased in some kind of clear resin, sitting in a hollowed out section of foam cushion in between the chair’s metal frame. Leading from the object was a dangling tube that looked almost organic. The end of it came to a sharp point that was darkened by a blackish substance that resembled dried blood.

“Oh gods,” Laura breathed. “What is that?”

“We don’t know ma’am,” Lieutenant Thrace spoke up. “That is, we don’t know what it does, but it’s definitely Cylon in origin.” The young woman’s face darkened with rage. “I’ve seen similar things before. On Caprica.”

“Cylon?” Laura repeated. She could feel her blood curdling at the mere thought. Gods only knew what that contraption had done to Bill. “How can it be Cylon? There have been no sightings in months.”

“Could be another sleeper agent that’s managed to stay hidden,” Saul snarled. “Those frakking toasters…” he muttered.

“It’s also possible that thing has been there for some time,” Lee interjected. “I checked the logs and this particular Raptor has been used very little. It’s one of the oldest museum models, no good for combat, and usually only the Admiral wants to fly with it. Why it hadn’t gone off before now, I’m not sure, but it could be that he needed to lean back in a particular way to hit just the right spot that launched the needle.”

_His neck_ , Laura realized. The needle had pierced the back of his neck. That explained why he was so protective of it.

“If they knew nobody else flew this Raptor, that means the Old Man must have been the intended target all along,” Kara pointed out.

“Well, there have been a couple of service flights logged in with it when all the other Raptors have been in use, but basically, yes,” Lee agreed. “Most of the crew would have known this was the Admiral’s ride.”

“Are there any flights logged in with the Cylon who was known as Sharon Valerii?” Laura asked, stepping forward to look at the vile apparatus more closely. She shuddered at the thought of something Cylon-made coursing through Bill’s body even as they spoke, blocking his memories and to some extent controlling his actions. What more might it be capable of?

“No, ma’am,” Lee replied when Laura turned to look at him again. “No flights, but she would have had access to it at any time it was lying here out of active service. This is not something that could have been done during a short service flight anyway. It would have taken considerable time and effort to hide that thing inside the seat.”

Laura nodded. She was painfully aware that the clock was ticking and that Bill was waiting for her. Knowing what she now knew, she almost wished she could avoid going, but that was not an option. She would have to face him and she would have to pretend that all was well, regardless of what it cost her. She was more afraid than she had ever been before – for her own safety, yes, but even more for Bill’s life. What if this thing had a way of multiplying inside his blood stream and it would eventually override everything that still remained of his own personality?

She looked at the doctor who only shook his head slightly. He had no solutions to offer.

Laura swallowed. “Talk to the Cylon prisoner,” she said with what formality she could muster, squaring her shoulders. “Strike a deal with her for information if you have to. She has to know something. Lieutenant Thrace?”

Kara stepped forward. “I’m on it, ma'am,” she replied.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Laura replied, smiling faintly. Then, with a cursory glance at the others, she nodded a quick farewell and hurried away from the hangar bay. As she adjusted her course towards Bill’s quarters, she could feel a lump forming in her throat while unshed tears burned her eyes. She could not afford to let them fall now.


	20. Chapter 20

“It’s fine, Eric. Eric, is it?” Bill asked the guard who had followed him to his quarters. There were two of them assigned to watch over him, and he had a hard time telling which was which. Neither were the talkative sort, though both seemed fiercely protective of Laura, which made them okay in his book. But just now, he wanted some privacy.

“Jacob, sir,” the guard supplied.

“Jacob. Thank you for escorting me, but you can wait outside, please.”

The boy hesitated, obviously trying to reconcile the Admiral he respected with the man in front of him now. “Cottle said it was okay, remember?” Bill reminded him. “In front of Laura, and she didn’t object.”

That obviously settled the matter, as Jacob nodded and left without another word. Bill knew he would be just on the other side of the hatch, and could be inside within seconds if he felt anything was amiss. He probably should have felt like his privacy was being invaded, but he didn’t. He felt grateful.

While he was waiting for Laura, he decided to look more closely around these quarters. As strange as it sounded, he often felt like he was living in someone else’s body, and this was a way to get to know his host. So to speak. It was a bizarre feeling.

He began with a slow walk around the entire space, examining each item with interest, trying to guess its importance. Some were obvious, like the pictures of his sons, the books, and star charts. Others were more obscure, pieces of sculpture and pottery that seemed like they must have stories behind them, stories he wished he knew. He ran a finger over the model sailing ship. She was a real beauty.

When he reached the sleeping area, he smiled, noting Laura had made up the rack that morning and stowed her nightgown somewhere out of sight. In fact, now that he thought about it, he didn’t see any signs of her continued occupancy. He hoped he hadn’t made her so uncomfortable yesterday she had decided to move to guest quarters after all.

He went back to the desk then, taking a seat behind it and randomly opening drawers. In the first one he tried, he found a stack of papers covered with handwritten math problems that could only belong to Laura’s young pupils. Perhaps she hadn’t moved out after all, but had only tidied up.

In the second drawer he found his log books, six of them stacked one on top of the either, labeled with the time period they covered. He chose the one with the most recent start date and opened it on the desk in front of him. He was still reading when Laura arrived twenty minutes later.

“Interesting reading?” she asked, walking over to him as the hatch had clanged shut behind her. He looked up with a small smile. “Not really. Seems like things have been pretty quiet lately. I’m sure I appreciated it at the time, but logs full of ‘all systems normal’ and ‘DRADIS clear’ don’t tell me much, other than that my handwriting is atrocious.”

She laughed, which had been his intention. “Tell me about it. I had to read regular reports from you for nearly a year. But if you want to read those things, I suggest you start at the beginning and go forward. Things will make more sense that way.”

It was a good suggestion, one he would probably follow, but not right at the moment. He closed the book. “What did the doctor want?” he asked, ignoring the buzzing in the back of his mind that the question stirred up.

“Oh, nothing really,” she said, meeting his eyes easily. “We told you we brought up two former Galactica personnel to look at your Raptor. Well, they want to see you, and the doctor just wanted to discuss with me whether I thought that was a good idea, that’s all.” She smiled. “What do you think? Are you up for some new visitors?”

Bill watched her, examined her cold smile, her hard eyes. She was lying. The buzzing got louder, and he pictured dozens of angry wasps circling his head. Why was she lying to him?

***

Two armed guards led the chained Cylon at gunpoint from her cell to the hangar deck where Dr. Cottle, Kara, Tyrol and Lee waited for her. Tigh had walked out in disgust at the idea of asking a Cylon's help for anything at all, but most especially for fixing Bill. The others agreed that his absence was probably for the best.

“Hi Galen,” the Cylon said when she was within speaking distance. Tyrol nodded, still not entirely comfortable with dealing with this creature who bore _his_ Sharon’s face. The fact that his Sharon had never really existed didn’t make it any easier. 

“Hey,” Kara said, demanding attention. “This isn’t a social call. You know what happened to the Old Man?”

The Cylon shook her head. “Not really. I know something’s wrong with him. He wandered into my room the other day, acting confused. Punched Dave here in the face.” She jerked her head towards one of her guards, whose nose was covered with a thick, white bandage. “Then Roslin showed up and he tried to take her hostage. She had to step in front of him to keep her guard from shooting him. So yeah, I know something isn’t right, but no one will tell me what.” 

She paused, looked around as if noticing her surrounding for the first time. “What the frak are you doing in here?”

“Bring her over,” Lee said to the guards, who led the prisoner around to face the other direction, until she was standing in front of the partially deconstructed pilot’s chair.

_“Frak,”_ Sharon breathed when she saw it, crouching down to get a better look as the guard allowed her chains the slack to do so. “Where did _that_ come from?”

“We were hoping you could tell us,” Kara said, stepping beside Sharon. “This is a Cylon contraption isn’t it?”

Sharon examined the piece for a moment in silence. Then she stood back and nodded, her eyes fixed on the ground. “It is,” she replied.

“What is it and how did it get there?” Lee asked.

“And what does it do?” Kara added.

“It’s…complicated,” Sharon replied. “I don’t know how it got there, but this liquid is an agent that carries nanoparticles. There are different compounds that have different functions but judging by how the Admiral was behaving when I saw him, these are ones that affect the brain. Has he suffered from memory loss?”

Kara and Lee looked at each other, uncertain for a moment whether to share more details with the prisoner. In the end, the need for information won over the need for secrecy.

“He doesn’t remember anything about who he is or the life he’s led,” Lee replied gravely.

Sharon nodded. “Then it’s as I feared. It’s one of the strongest compounds we…the Cylons have. It’s known as the Lethe compound. It was designed to eliminate key operatives from the inside, making them their own enemy. The memory loss is just part of it. The memory wipe’s main function is to make the subject’s mind more susceptible to other impressions, to make them less likely to be able to resist those other, more dangerous impulses.”

“The paranoia,” Dr. Cottle spoke up. He had followed the discussion in silence until then.

“Yes,” Sharon confirmed. “The person who has been injected with this would wake up with no memory of who they are and be certain that everyone around them was an enemy plotting against them. They’d rather kill than submit to whatever tests they think they’re being subjected to by the enemy.”

Lee’s jaw clenched. “So the person becomes the weapon,” he concluded quietly.

“In theory, yes, but I’ve never seen it in use before,” the Cylon replied. “If this is what’s wrong with the Admiral, I’m surprised the situation outside my cell was resolved without blood loss.”

“So the compound could be faulty?” Kara asked.

“Or humans are more resistant to its effects than has previously been known,” Sharon replied, clearly fascinated. “The fact that the Admiral has presumably been well treated while he’s been recuperating could also have had an impact on how he views his supposed captors. The testing conditions for this technology were less…humane, which could have skewed the results.”

“Well that wouldn’t surprise me,” the doctor harrumphed, interrupting the narrative again, “but what I really want to know is whether this can be reversed, or will we be walking on eggshells around the Admiral until somebody gets hurt?”

Sharon appeared to consider this. “I may be able help,” she said after a moment. “But what’s in it for me?”


	21. Chapter 21

Laura knew the minute the words left her mouth that she had made a serious error. Somehow, Bill recognized instantly that she was lying. Or maybe he would have assumed she was even if she had been telling the truth. The result was the same.

His eyes went hard and flinty and something in them made her want to take several steps backward. Was this the same as confronting a wild animal? Never show fear? Laura didn’t know, but she stood her ground anyway. She would take a minute to try and turn things around herself, and then, if the situation deteriorated, one loud word would bring Jacob running.

“You’re lying,” Bill ground out.

She didn’t bother to deny it. “Yes.”

“Why?”

She took a deep breath and walked closer, leaning on her arms against his desk, looking him right in the eye. The truth may just make things worse, but there didn’t seem to be any other option. “They found something on the Raptor. We don’t know what it means and I didn’t want to say anything until we do. I apologize. I would do well to remember that you are an adult in charge of your own fate and I am doing you no favours by trying to protect you. But Bill, that’s all I was doing: trying to protect you. That’s all any of us are doing.”

She fell silent, but held his gaze, offering an uneasy, but genuine smile.

With one last probing stare, Bill stood and walked away from her, going into the head and closing the door. After a minute she heard water running.

Walking away from the desk, she fell onto the couch, covering her face with her hands, only to have to stand again when the comm rang a fraction of a second later.

“Sharon thinks she might be able to help, but she has a few demands,” Lee told her after she said hello.

Laura sighed. “Of course she does. Go on.”

“She says she’ll need access to Baltar’s lab. Free access. She said to leave the armed guards if we must, but she can’t work with the chains crippling her.”

“Fine.” That was reasonable. Baltar’s lab was still intact as far as she knew; he certainly hadn’t taken anything with him that would have required him to be productive in any way. “What else?”

Silence filled her ear, and she thought for a moment the connection had been dropped. “Lee, are you there?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sorry. Her second demand is…she and Helo want to get married, ma’am.”

Married? An officer in the Colonial fleet wanted to marry a Cylon prisoner? It was like some kind of bad joke. And she had to agree to it order for the Cylon to help Bill? “What guarantee do we have that she can even help Bill and this isn’t just a ruse to force us to allow that…abomination to occur?” she asked.

“Well, we don’t ma’am. Not really. But I was watching her when she first saw the component and I heard her explanation of what she thinks it is, and I believe her. She doesn’t claim she can reverse the effects, just that she can try. But she wants our guarantee that they can get married whether she is successful or not.”

_Gods_. It should be Bill making this decision. Lieutenant Agathon was his officer and the Cylon was his prisoner. She held the receiver away from her ear and listened. The water had stopped running in the head, but Bill had not re-emerged. She couldn’t ask him to make this choice. Not only did he not remember any of the background needed in order to understand the full situation, but any mention of Cylon involvement could set him off again. Assuming he was even in control of himself again now, which was not a given.

“Ma’am?” It was Lee’s turn to prompt her out of silence.

“Yes, Commander. I’ll need to speak to Colonel Tigh before agreeing to anything. He’s Lieutenant Agathon's CO at the moment. Have the prisoner returned to her cell and tell her we’ll have a decision soon.”

 Laura had just returned the receiver to the comm unit when the door to the head opened and Bill emerged, wiping the corners of his mouth. She smiled uneasily at first when their eyes met, but he looked calmer now, more like himself.

 “I…I went to brush my teeth,” he explained, sounding a little embarrassed. “I don’t know why, but it felt like something I would do…It felt good. Calming.”

 Laura’s smile widened. That was definitely Bill. “I know,” she replied. “You do like to do that.”

 “I do?” he asked, sounding surprised. He took a few more uncertain steps towards Laura.

 “Mmm-hmm,” Laura hummed, nodding her head. In moments like these she could almost forget the very real threat she now knew was pulsing through his veins. In moments like these, she could believe that whatever this Cylon technology inside him was, it wasn’t too late to help him.

 “Sometimes you like to shave too,” she added after a beat, as an afterthought.

 “I actually thought about doing that,” Bill admitted sheepishly, his hand touching the strip of hair on his upper lip. “I’m not really sure about the mustache.”

 “You’ve only had it for a little while,” Laura replied, smiling again. Bill had reached her now and was hovering a little uncertainly a couple of steps away. There seemed to be an invisible barrier that both were reluctant to cross – Laura because of what she had just found out and Bill…who knew, perhaps some lingering doubt that even a good brushing of teeth hadn’t managed to clear entirely.

 “You started growing it after we settled on this planet,” Laura continued after clearing her throat. She remembered fondly the first time she had seen it – the way she had teased him about it. She had always wondered how it would feel against her lips if they kissed but… _No, stop it, Laura,_ she chided herself, erasing that last thought.

 She could see that Bill was inching closer now. Slowly, tentatively. If he had heard any of her conversation on the comm just now, it seemed to be forgotten, perhaps on purpose.

 “Maybe it’s there for a reason, then,” he replied, pausing when they were nearly face to face.

 “Like that ring?” she blurted, glancing at the golden band on Bill’s left hand. _Great line, Laura._

 Bill’s eyes followed hers and he lifted his hand, eyeing the ring thoughtfully.

 “I’ve been wondering about it, actually,” he said at last. “Why _do_ I still have it?”

 Laura shook her head. “I don’t know, but I always assumed there to be some symbolic reason. Perhaps you consider yourself married to the fleet now.” She paused and lifted her eyes to meet Bill’s. Had he somehow stepped closer again? “You know, like we talked about the other day,” she continued, placing her hand on his chest in a half-hearted attempt to control the distance that remained between them.  “You…me…the fleet,” she added, nervously smoothing the fabric of his shirt. “It’s never been just the two of us.”

 “I have to admit,” Bill said softly. “That’s been the most confusing part of this whole experience. How two people so clearly drawn to each other can live through the end of the world, through losing nearly everything and everyone they’ve ever known, and still be willing to put aside their own happiness for the sake of everyone else. It’s noble, sure, but isn’t it also a bit stupid?” His lips quirked into a self-conscious smile, as his hand came up to cover hers on his chest. “Then again, maybe I’m overstating things. Maybe what I’m feeling now isn’t any more real than the paranoia. Is there not really anything worth considering between us, Laura?”

She held his gaze, but didn’t answer right away. How could she; these were questions far from settled even in her own mind. She had never told Bill the reason why he was on the planet in the first place when all this started, that she was reconsidering the very question he just posed: was this thing between them worth the pain that could come later if it all blew up in their faces? Would their people accept her as their president again if she was literally in bed with the military? Would they be able to function together as leaders if they were also lovers? Or even worse: former lovers?

She hadn’t known the answers eight days ago when she waited for Bill to arrive for their date, and she didn’t know now, when the complications were multiplied by a thousandfold. But Bill was looking at her with curious, anxious eyes and she couldn’t let him think he was misreading her entirely, even if that would be the smart thing to do.

“There is something between us, something worth considering, yes. There is.” She intended to speak the words with her usual authority, then counter them with the same tired arguments she had been having with herself since the ground-breaking. Instead her voice came out high and breathy and she found herself unable to continue, to add the disclaimers she knew – _she_ _knew_ – were necessary.

Bill’s hands had found their way to her hips, pulling her gently, but insistently closer. Without seeking her permission first, her own hand slid from his chest to his collar, just skimming the nape of his neck.

_Gods, his neck, the Cylon device, she couldn’t do this, she couldn’t do this._

But it was too late. His lips were on hers and as her eyes slid closed, she forced all other considerations from her mind. For once in her life, Laura Roslin didn’t think, she simply _felt_.

 


	22. Chapter 22

Frak, Laura muttered to herself as she let the hatch of the Life Station clang shut behind her. _Frak._

Cottle knew. He had to have seen the color on her cheeks, the looks she and Bill had exchanged on parting, the poorly disguised smiles, the half-whispered words. The doctor hadn’t said anything except reminded her that she was expected at the CIC, but the look on his face had communicated the rest. He didn’t approve. Gods, _she_ didn’t even approve of what had just happened in Bill’s quarters, and yet…Laura brought her hand to her lips where she could still feel the burn of Bill’s mustache, briefly reliving the kiss they had shared. For a moment, an involuntary smile lit up her face. She couldn’t even remember the last time she felt this way.

Then the reality caught up with her and her smile faded quickly. She shouldn’t be feeling this way _now_ either, and what had happened between her and Bill couldn’t happen again, at least not until they found a way to cure him, if it was even possible. And then…well, then it would be a different negotiation all over again and she couldn’t think that far ahead yet. Not now when even their immediate future remained so uncertain.

With one more glance towards the closed hatch separating her from Bill and the Life Station, Laura turned around and walked towards the CIC.

It had been a while since she had been in that part of the ship, but she found her way there easily now, guided by the memory of the many visits she had made there back when she was still the president and Bill was still in charge.

Now, it was Saul who stood alone in the middle of the once bustling heart of the ship, staring up at the DRADIS that seemed to show no sign of action. The rest of the skeleton crew still manning the deck were scattered around the room, engaged in whatever tasks they had.

“Colonel,” Laura spoke quietly, wanting to draw no one’s attention but the XO’s.

He looked down at the sound of her voice. “Madam President,” he replied formally.

“I take it you’ve heard about the Cylon’s demands,” Laura said, cutting immediately to the chase.

“Aye,” he snarled, “I’ve heard about it alright.” She could tell he was not happy. Neither was she.

“I don’t think we have a lot of choices here,” Laura replied, keeping her voice low. “I don’t like it. I don’t trust her. And yet…she’s the only hope we have. If she wants to marry this officer and if the man is foolish enough to want to marry a machine…”

“He’s a frakking idiot,” Saul spat, not bothering to hide his disgust. “Marrying a frakking Cylon….” he muttered.

“But you’ll let them do it?” Laura asked. As little as she liked the idea, she would have been willing to promise a great deal more for a chance to save Bill.

Saul released a breath, his shoulders sagging visibly as all fight seemed to leave him. “For the Old Man, yes,” he said. Then another thought seemed to occur to him: “But what if it doesn’t work? The thing wants the right to marry whether she succeeds or not.”

Laura looked at the Colonel pointedly. “You _know_ what will happen if she fails, or if she tries anything to make it worse,” she said grimly.

Saul looked at her quizzically for a moment. Then his frown cleared and he nodded his head in understanding.

“Good,” he replied, patting her shoulder in an unprecedented gesture of camaraderie. “In that case, the mission is a go.”

Laura nodded, turning to walk away now that they were on the same page.

If the Cylon prisoner tried anything untoward, that thing would quickly find itself on the wrong side of an airlock even if Laura had to drag it there herself.

***

_These meetings are getting crowded_ , Laura thought, a day and a half later. In addition to the usual team of herself, Cottle, Tigh and Lee, they had been joined by Kara Thrace, and also Lieutenant Agathon, reporting in on behalf of his fiancée.

Laura rolled her eyes a little just thinking the word, but luckily no one seemed to notice.

“So, what do you have for us, Lieutenant?” she asked.

“Sharon gave me a note to read to you all, but first ma’am, can I just say thank you for allowing Sharon and me to get married after this. You have no idea how much it means to us.”

Laura really didn’t, but she didn’t say so, not wanting to harm Bill’s best chance at recovery with an unfortunate undiplomatic comment. “Thank your CO, Lieutenant,” she advised instead. “It was his decision.”

Karl glanced at Tigh and nodded, and was roundly ignored in return. He looked back at Laura and shrugged, flashing a quick smile. The young man had thick skin; Laura would give him that much.

“Your note?” she reminded him.

“Oh, right.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and opened it, turning it right way around before he began reading.

“I have been able to isolate a hive of nanoparticles from the compound. I believe I can communicate with them and convince them to undo the work of their comrades who have by now been absorbed and eliminated by the Admiral’s circulatory system. If I’m successful in this, they can then be introduced to the Admiral via an injection in his brainstem. If successful, it would take about two hours for his brain to return to normal.”

_Two hours!_ _Bill could be himself again within two hours!_ Laura held her breath, and turned her head to meet Dr. Cottle’s eyes across the room. His doubtful expression brought back to reality, but neither of them spoke the obvious. There was no way Bill was going to agree to such a thing. She looked back to the Lieutenant. “And if it isn’t successful?” she asked.

Karl walked over to the desk and handed Laura the note so she could read for herself. After the last sentence he had read aloud, the Cylon had written two more.

_If the hive does not listen to my new instructions, the Admiral’s situation could remain unchanged from what it is now. Alternatively, it could become much worse._

***

“We have to try, don’t we?” Lieutenant Thrace was the first to speak after Lieutenant Agathon left the room. “We can’t just leave him like this.” Kara and Tyrol had spent some time with the Admiral the day before, and were now well-versed in what was at stake.

“We’re not injecting more frakking Cylon technology into Bill. He wouldn’t want that and you all frakking well know it!” Saul cursed, stalking over to Bill’s drink cart and helping himself to a belt, early hour be frakked.

“Lee?” Laura asked gently. Lee was Bill’s next of kin. If they determined his father to be incapable of giving informed consent, the decision should ultimately be his.

He just shook his head. “I don’t know. I just don’t know. Should we tell the Cylon to go ahead and try, and delay a final decision until she knows if she can even do it?”

“We can’t trust her to tell us the truth!” Saul shouted, slamming his empty glass down on the table.

“Saul, sit down.” Cottle had come up behind him, pulled out a chair at the table and put gentle pressure on the other man’s shoulder. Saul complied with a few muttered words Laura didn’t catch. She gave Jack a thankful look.

“I think that’s reasonable, Lee,” she said in answer to the question at hand.

***

“What do you think?” Laura asked Dr. Cottle as soon as they were alone. She was thankful he had lingered after everyone else had dispersed.

“I think we’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t,” the doctor replied, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter from the pocket of his lab coat. Laura watched as he lit the cigarette and put away the lighter.

“You know, he _is_ at least manageable now,” she pointed out. “If there’s a possibility he’ll get worse…” She didn’t finish the sentence. Didn’t want to even consider the possibility.

Cottle looked at Laura, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “If we do nothing, he’ll never have a chance of getting better. If we do nothing, we’d always have to be careful around him and he could still eventually get worse if somebody at some point ends up saying the wrong thing.”

Laura couldn’t argue with that assessment. What she thought privately  – that at least he would still be like himself most of the time, that even if he couldn’t remember the past and might sometimes lash out unexpectedly, there’d still be enough moments of normalcy to make it worthwhile – she couldn’t say out loud. She knew even without hearing it from Cottle that she wasn’t thinking objectively.

She knew if she were the President and had to make this call as a leader, Bill as the Admiral of the fleet would be of no use to the fleet in his current condition. They’d have to at least try to cure him and if that failed, she’d simply have to appoint a new Admiral, personal feelings be damned.

As if anyone could ever replace him.

“Well, it’s Lee’s call in the end,” she sighed at last, the words spoken more to herself than to Cottle.

“That’s right,” the doctor replied, starting to walk towards the hatch. “So this discussion here is just purely academic.” He paused, hand on the wheel of the hatch. “Are you coming?”

Laura hesitated. She hadn’t been alone with Bill since the kiss they had shared. She didn’t trust herself to be left alone with him, especially now when any moment could be the last.

“Don’t look so scared,” Cottle said as if reading her thoughts. “I left Galen with him and I bet Kara and Lee will be there soon as well, and so will I.”

Laura smiled faintly, getting out of her seat. “Okay,” she replied resignedly. “Let’s go.”

***

They had all been at the Life Station for some time, crammed around Bill’s bed with Kara doing most of the talking, entertaining everyone with her stories of their life planetside when the sudden ring of the comm unit brought all conversation to a halt.

Laura watched as Cottle walked up to the unit, picked up the receiver and held it to his ear. He nodded, grunted something unintelligible, and then put away the receiver again. As he returned to Bill’s bedside his face was hard to read but when he turned to whisper something into Lee’s ear and the young man immediately bolted out of his chair and headed out, she knew what the news had been. It was time to make the decision.

“I’m afraid I’ve been called away on an emergency,” Cottle said out loud after a moment. “Lieutenant Thrace…Galen...Laura…”

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” Laura replied, her hand reaching automatically for Bill’s. If they were going to go through with the operation, if something went wrong, this could be her last moment alone with Bill. She couldn’t leave without even the semblance of a goodbye, even if she had to disguise it as something else.

Cottle looked at her for a moment, but didn’t argue. “Don’t be long,” he said gently before following Kara and Galen out of the room.

When Laura turned to look at Bill, she could see doubt gathering in the depths of his eyes. They’d been in the middle of a pleasant conversation and then suddenly everyone had bolted. She wasn’t surprised by his reaction.

“Bill,” she said softly, her hand still in his. “It’s just me.”

“Laura,” he replied, his voice a little restrained. “What’s happening?”

“Do you trust me?” she asked, looking him in the eye. She didn’t want to lie to him now.

Bill closed his eyes. His hold of her hand tightened and Laura let it. Finally, he opened his eyes again and nodded. “I do,” he replied hoarsely. “I want to.”

Laura smiled, reaching her free hand to caress his catered cheek. Suddenly she had no words to say. Everything that came to her mind felt inadequate.

“Are you going too?” Bill asked at last.

Laura smiled ruefully. “I have to,” she whispered. “But I’ll be back soon.”

Bill nodded. He brought her hand to his lips and then let it go. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said with a smile that made Laura’s heart ache.She fled the room swallowing a lump in her throat.


	23. Chapter 23

“So how do you know these nanoparticles will do what you want them to?” Lee was asking the Cylon when Laura arrived at the lab.

The Cylon looked at him askance. “I asked them,” she said slowly, as if she was speaking to a particularly dull child.

“They told you they can repair the damage to the Admiral’s brain?” Cottle asked, eyebrows flying upward.

“Yes. I mean, not in words. That’s not how it works. But yes. That is their intention.” The Cylon known as Sharon was standing at a workbench, in front of a beaker containing a clear fluid. Her fiancé, Lieutenant Agathon stood slightly behind her and to the left, his arms crossed over his chest, by turns looking at the Cylon proudly, and glaring at the armed guard in the corner.

Laura approached the group held up her hands in a time-out gesture. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s say we do this. Can you describe exactly what would happen?” She nodded reassuringly at Lee.

"I’ll need a large syringe for this compound," Sharon said, holding up the beaker, “which contains the reprogrammed nanoparticles, along with a nutritional fluid. It then needs to be injected into the Admiral's brainstem so that the nanoparticles can enter his system. It will take a couple of hours for them to do their job."

Laura looked at Cottle. "Can that be arranged?"

The doctor nodded. "We’ll need a puncture needle for that, which we might need to get from the Pegasus, but if you give me a couple of hours, yes. It can be arranged."

“Okay,” Laura said, nodding, turning back to the prisoner. “Your note said there was a chance this might not work, or that it could make the Admiral worse. Please elaborate.”

“That was before I was able to establish communication with the particles. I feel now the risk is minimal…”

“This isn’t a discussion about your feelings,” Laura snapped. “Give me the odds.”

The Cylon’s eyes widened slightly, then steadily met Laura’s gaze and held it. A slight smile toyed at her lips, as if she had just discovered she had some kind of upper hand. “Less than a ten percent chance of the particles being unable to repair the damage. Less than five of them making it worse. Ma’am.”

Laura nodded once, then tore her eyes away to look at the rest of those assembled. “Does anyone else have any questions?”

When no one did, Laura instructed the guards to return the prisoner to her cell. “We’ll contact you with our decision.” She paused, watching as Lt. Agathon helped the guard reattached the Cylon’s irons. “Thank you,” she added, staring after them as they shuffled out of the room.

When the Cylon, her guard, and her consort were gone, Laura turned back to the rest of the group who had been talking quietly amongst themselves while the doctor secured the nanoparticle solution.

“So, what do we think?” she asked quietly, leaning on her palms against the workstation. “Lee?”

“Gods,” he said. “I don’t know how I can make this decision for Dad, when most of the time he seems completely fine, aside from his memory. Shouldn’t he get a say here?”

Laura and Cottle exchanged uneasy glances. 

“Lee,” Laura explained gently, “he’s not ever going to agree to this. He’s not capable of agreeing to it; the alterations to his brain won’t let him. In fact even the suggestion that we want him to do it might set him off and cause him to irrevocably lose trust in all of us.”

Lee looked from Laura to Cottle. “Doctor?”

“I agree with the President, Lee,” Cottle said. “There's nothing to be gained from telling him about this, and a whole lot to lose. We know what his response will be and it won’t be pretty. It’s up to us, to you, to decide for him, one way or the other.”

Lee bent over on himself, forearms braced against the workbench, head hanging low between them. Kara stepped over and put her arm around his waist, her head resting against his shoulder. They appeared to be talking too quietly for the rest of the room to hear.

Laura, suddenly feeling as if she were intruding on a private family moment, looked away.

After a moment, Lee straightened up. There were tears in his eyes as he wiped the back of his hand across his face. Kara squeezed his arm and then took a step backward.

Bill's son looked directly at Laura. “Sometimes, you have to roll the hard six,” he said.

***

Bill closed his eyes. How long was it since everyone had left? Ten minutes? Fifteen? Twenty? Laura had said she would come back soon, but he knew something had been off. Had she been lying? No. Bill shook his head. He could tell when she was lying. This hadn’t been like that.

A new thought slithered its way into his mind. What if she was being coerced? She had looked sad and unwilling when she had left.

Had it been these new people? That young blonde woman and the man they called the Chief? It was a suspicious name. What if they were behind this all? The more the man thought about it, the more it made sense. Something had changed after they had arrived. They wouldn’t even let him be alone with Laura. Since yesterday they had been there every time he had hoped to find a moment with her in private.

He could see their cunning plan now. They would use Laura to get to him. They’d hold her captive and threaten her life until he spilled all his secrets. That’s why she had resisted so long, because she knew the danger. Now they were both in trouble.

_No_ , Bill shook his head, rubbing his face with his hands. What was he thinking? The blonde woman was called Kara and she was friendly, and the man they called Chief had a real name, too. Bill had heard it. He had introduced himself as Galen.

But why had they all left? He was back again where he had started from.

Laura hadn’t wanted to leave. He was certain of it. What if the doctor was behind it all? He was the one who had said something to Lee and set everything in motion. What sinister plans could he be hiding behind the exterior of a kindly old doctor?

The man was growing restless. He knew the woman was in danger and he had to save her. He wasn’t sure how, but he was certain he would find a way even if he had to punch his way through with his own fists.

With his mouth set into a grim line, eyes shooting daggers at the still closed hatch, he sat back and waited.

***

Laura watched impatiently as the Cylon and Dr. Cottle stood huddled over a workbench, going over the crucial steps needed to administer the compound. At intervals, when everything else seemed to go quiet, she could hear words like _“it all needs to go in,”_ and _“-must hit the brainstem,”_ and it all made her stomach turn at the mere thought of what was ahead.

Bill would go crazy at the sight of the needle, and if they even tried to get it anywhere close to his neck… Laura shuddered. She remembered all too well how he had reacted when she had tried nothing more invasive than simply _looking_ at his neck.

To her left, Lee stood rigidly still, looking paler than she had ever seen him, and next to him stood Kara who seemed to have trouble staying still, constantly shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Further off, Saul was leaning heavily against a doorframe, taking large swigs from a flask that looked awfully inviting right now.

Finally, just as Laura was about to open her mouth and ask how much longer they would have to wait, Cottle nodded his head at the Cylon and then turned around, holding up a large syringe containing a clear, viscous liquid.

Laura swallowed. It was time.

“Is he going to remember any of this?” she asked the Cylon, hating the emotion in her voice, but currently incapable of filtering it out completely.

“I’m sorry, but there’s no way of knowing,” the other woman replied with something in her voice Laura could almost believe was kindness.

***

“We’ll need to sedate him,” Cottle said after the Cylon was escorted from the room, finally giving voice to what everyone knew but didn’t want to face. “Any suggestions?”

Laura shook her head, hands rising to cover her face. No one was going to get anywhere near Bill with a needle, whether it contained a sedative, or microscopic Cylon invaders. Someone was going to have to restrain him. Her heart broke just thinking about it. 

When she removed her hands and looked around, it was clear from their expressions, the others had come to the same conclusion. Saul gave them each one last haunted look, then unsteadily left the room.

“It’s going to take at least four men to hold him,” Kara said quietly.

“Eric and Jacob,” Laura said. “They’ve been with him all along. He tr…” Her voice cracked and her hand flew up to cover her mouth as she tried unsuccessfully to blink the moisture from her eyes. Clearing her throat, she began again. “He trusts them enough that they should be able to get fairly close before he suspects anything.”

“The Chief and I can help,” Lee said, his jaw set so tightly his mouth barely moved when he spoke.

Tyrol nodded once, his face a waxen mask.

“Lee, you don’t have to, I can…” Kara tried to volunteer, but Lee interrupted her. 

“No! I mean, thanks, Kara, but this was my choice. If I’ve chosen this for him, the least I can do is look him in the eye when it happens.” Angrily, he swiped at his eyes, but he didn’t turn away.

After a long, troubled silence, Cottle finally spoke. “Okay, well let’s get this over with then.”

***

Laura summoned the off-duty guard Jacob to meet them outside of Life Station, then briefly explained to both guards what their task was to be. As always, both were unquestioningly loyal to their President, and accepted her orders with subdued agreement.

They decided Cottle would enter Life Station with Kara, and surreptitiously draw up and pocket a syringe containing a strong sedative. He would then position himself near Bill’s bed, but enough out of the way that the other men could surround him. Kara’s job would be to distract Bill, and also to signal to abort the mission if anything went awry before the others entered.

Outside, the four men would count off two minutes exactly, then enter Life Station, walking over to Bill’s bed in as non-threatening a way as possible. All weapons would be left outside the door. Tyrol and Lee would enter first, with the two guards just behind them and then the four of them would each hold down one of Bill’s limbs, allowing the doctor to inject the sedative into his upper thigh.

Dr. Cottle instructed Laura to wait outside until the commotion stopped. Both of them knew she would do no such thing.

“Are we all ready?” Cottle asked, one hand on the hatch. “Of course we’re not,” he answered himself when no one else did. “Here goes.”

The two minutes they had to wait were the longest two minutes of Laura’s life. No one spoke; the only sound was that of their own rough breathing. After an eternity, the two guards looked first at each other, and then at Laura.

“Ma’am?” one of them asked.

She inhaled deeply, steeling herself from within. It was almost over. “Go, just go,” she whispered.

Tyrol spun open the hatch and the four men filed inside. A few seconds later, Laura followed.

It was already chaos around Bill’s bed when it came into view. He was thrashing on the bed, head whipping back and forth as the four men struggled to hold him down without being bit. Kara had wedged herself as far into a corner as she could manage, tears flowing freely down her face. Cottle pulled the syringe from his pocket.

“You!” Bill roared as he spotted her from the bed. “You lying whore! I trusted you! I’ll kill you for this! Do you hear me, bitch? I’ll kill you!” His eyes bulged, spittle flying from his mouth as he cursed her. 

She was frozen to her spot, couldn’t speak, couldn’t look away.

Cottle sank the needle into Bill’s thigh and slammed the plunger home. 

***

The man trashed and raged with everything he had, trying to the last to gain the upper hand over his captors, but they were too many and too strong. Even the fury that fueled him wasn’t enough to overpower the enemy. Not even when he saw the woman gloating behind her cronies. He was outnumbered. All he could do was spew out his rage at her.

It had been her all along. She had tricked him and betrayed him, and it hurt all the more because he had actually believed her. There had never been a Bill, and there had never been a Laura, it had all been a fabrication to gain his trust…but it had _felt_ real. It had felt….

The man couldn’t finish the thought. He felt the darkness encroaching on him fast. His limbs, weighed down by his captors, grew heavier and heavier, his thoughts muddled. Somebody was still shouting. Was it him? The man no longer knew.

He was going to die, all because of _her_.


	24. Chapter 24

Laura covered her mouth as she watched Bill slowly succumb to the sedative, his last, barely intelligible words fading out into powerless slurs that still stung. She couldn’t focus on anything else happening in the room. For a moment she could hear only her own heart pounding in her chest, aching for Bill. Somehow, even though the rational side of her knew this was for the best and there was no other way to do it, she felt like she had betrayed him. He had trusted her, and this was the result.

“You can all back off now,” Cottle’s calm voice rose above the tumult of Laura’s thoughts after a moment. Everything that had seemed to move in slow motion was suddenly moving ahead at normal speed again. Bill’s body had finally gone limp.

“Lee,” the doctor put his calming hand on the young man’s shoulder. He had put aside the syringe he had used to administer the sedative and retrieved the larger needle reserved for the actual procedure. At the doctor’s touch, Lee staggered backwards, wiping sweat or something else off his face. Kara was by his side in an instant.

 "Eric, Jacob,” Cottle continued, moving past Lee. “Turn him over and don’t let go until I say so. He’s out of it now but we don’t want any surprises.”

Inching closer, Laura watched as her guards carefully turned Bill’s body to his side, placing him on the bed according to the doctor’s instructions and then holding him in place. In her peripheral vision, she could just see Kara’s lips moving, probably mouthing a silent prayer to the gods. Then the needle went into the back of Bill’s neck and Laura closed her eyes, unable to watch.

***

Shortly after completing the injection, Dr. Cottle shooed everyone away from Life Station. "It will be at least the two hours needed for the Cylon whatsits to do their job. Probably longer, since I gave him enough sedative to knock a horse on its ass," he explained. "Go wait somewhere out of my hair. I'll call you when you can come back." Left unsaid, but understood by all, was that the doctor wanted a chance to determine his patient's state of mind before other complicating factors were introduced. The guards, however, remained, one on each side of the bed.

Tyrol went back to the hangar deck preferring to drown his thoughts in the methodical process of reassembling the Raptor, while Laura, Lee and Kara retreated to the Admiral's quarters. They now sat silently on the couch, stealing occasional glances at the clock and the silent comm unit, but completely avoiding looking at each other. Laura could only assume that the other two were also reliving the horror of what had just happened, over and over in their minds, as she was. But what could they have done differently? Maybe they should have told Bill about the cure. Maybe they could have made him understand somehow. Even as she thought it, she knew it wasn't true, but gods, could it have been any worse than this? What if it didn't work, and he woke up still thinking she had betrayed him, that they all had. Where could they even go from there? What kind of life would be left to him?

She pictured Bill confined to a cell like that of the Cylon, raging constantly, never being allowed out for fear he would harm himself or others. She pictured them building him a house on some remote New Caprican mountain and leaving him there to fend for himself. She pictured keeping him drugged into docility for the remainder of his days and led around like a pet. Each scenario was more horrifying than the last.

_Stop it_ , she told herself.  _Stop it_ . The Cylon, if she could be believed, thought there was a less than ten percent chance that the procedure wouldn't work. That meant there was ninety percent chance it  _would_ . She couldn't give up hope.

With effort, she forced herself to picture different scenarios. Bill smiling at her when she walked into Life Station a few hours from now. Bill back in command of the Galactica, issuing orders from CIC. Bill, lying on a blanket with her under the stars, both of them inching ever closer together. These were the things that would happen. They had to be.

Laura’s lips quirked into a slight smile as she allowed herself to hope for a moment. Maybe they could finally have that picnic she had prepared and then she could show him where she wanted to build her cabin. Maybe it wouldn’t even have to be just her cabin. Maybe it could be theirs.

She shook her head, reminding herself she was getting too far ahead. Even if Bill recovered fully, which Laura was determined to believe that he would, they wouldn’t be able to just ride off into the sunset together as if they were characters in a movie. The complications that had existed before would still be there. Besides, she didn’t really know what Bill even wanted. It was what she had hoped to find out during the visit that never came to be. What had happened between them in the past few days…well, none of that would count if it turned out that in regaining the rest of his memories he would forget what had happened in between.

Rousing from her thoughts, Laura glanced at her watch and then sighed audibly. Barely an hour had passed. How could time move so slowly?

Her eyes travelling across the room, she noticed that Kara had started pacing impatiently between the couch and the desk while Lee had managed to find a plate full of something that he was now absentmindedly munching on while staring blankly at the wall. She decided to spare them the platitudes that played on the tip of her tongue about how Bill was going to be okay and how it wouldn’t be much longer now.

Instead, she walked over to the desk, nodded at Kara as she passed her, and pulled out her students’ papers that had been waiting to be marked for too long already. She needed to not think and there couldn’t possibly be anything more mind-numbing than reading poorly constructed essays on Caprican history by fifth graders who should probably have been learning something more useful anyway.

Lee finally broke the silence as they approached their fourth hour of waiting. “We did the right thing.” His voice was hoarse from disuse, as if it had been days since he last spoke and not hours. “We did, right?”

Laura looked up from her marking, watching the two young people over the rims of her glasses. Lee hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch, but at some point while she wasn’t paying attention, Kara had sat down at the opposite end. Her knees were bent, with her heels on the edge of the couch cushion and her arms wrapped around her legs. She shook her head miserably. “No. No, Lee. We frakked up. We should have told him, at least given him a chance. We really frakked up.”

“All right!” Laura snapped, more harshly than she intended. She tossed her pen to the desk. “That will be enough of that. What’s done is done, and we are not going to waste time second-guessing our decisions. Either the Admiral will be fine, or he won’t, and if he’s not, driving ourselves crazy with what-ifs won’t help him. We’ll need all our energy to figure what we need to do next. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes ma’am,” Kara mumbled, sounding very much like one of Laura’s teenage students.

“Yes ma’am,” Lee echoed.

“Good. Now, instead of sitting there brooding, I suggest you find something to pass the time. Read a book, or maybe the Chief could use a hand in the hangar bay.”

Kara unfolded herself from the couch, perhaps taking Laura’s second suggestion. She was halfway to the hatch when the comm unit rang.

All three of them turned to stare at it and then at each other before Laura finally stood and crossed the room to answer it. “Yes,” she said into the receiver. A few seconds later, she hung up without saying another word.

“Dr. Cottle wants us,” she said to the others. “Let’s go.”

***

“I don’t know,” Laura said for the third time, as they approached Life Station. “Eric only said the doctor wanted us down here.

“Well, you must have been able to tell something from his tone of voice,” Kara insisted.

Laura turned to her left and favoured the younger woman with a cool stare, eyebrow slightly raised.

“Okay, okay. Sorry,” Kara said. “Anyway, we’re here.”

Lee reached the hatch first, but instead of twisting it open, he turned to face the two women. “Look, whatever happens in there, I’m not giving up. We’ll find a way to reach him. Dad is still in there somewhere.”

“Frakking right,” Kara said.

“So say we all,” Laura added, giving both their arms a quick squeeze. “Now, if you’ll open the hatch, Commander?”

They entered one by one, then hovered just inside the door. The curtain was drawn around Bill’s bed, with neither the doctor nor the guards anywhere in sight.

Laura looked from Lee to Kara, each of whom looked just as hesitant as she felt. “Shall we?” she said quietly, suddenly feeling like she was in a library. Or a funeral home.

She had just taken a step towards the curtain, when a voice croaked from behind it. “You three just going to stand around like scared nuggets on the first day of flight school, or are you going to come over here?”


	25. Chapter 25

_Bill_. Laura felt a surge of joy at the sound of his voice. And not just the sound, but the specific tone and cadence of his words that was all Bill as she knew him. He was back.

When she looked at Kara and Lee, she could see her own relief reflected on their faces as they nudged each other excitedly and it occurred to her that this was their moment more than it was hers. With a nod and a little pat on Lee’s back, she took a step back to let Bill’s kids – his biological son and surrogate daughter - file in through the curtains first while she hovered just outside.

It was the right thing to do, she told herself, and nothing to do with the hint of uncertainty she still felt somewhere in the pit of her stomach - nothing to do with what he had shouted at her just before he was put under, even though the words still rang in her ears now. It hadn’t been Bill who had yelled them. Not really. And yet…

The soft murmur of voices from the other side of the curtain told Laura that everything seemed to be going well with the reunion. Words like “Cottle told me that…” and “You gave us quite a scare,” filtered through the curtains to her ears and she began inching closer to the opening until part of the bed came into her view. She could see Lee’s back, blocking Bill from her line of vision, and then Kara standing on the other side of the bed with a permanent grin plastered on her face.

Laura was about to retreat back so as not to intrude on the family moment when Kara’s eyes landed on her and then Lee, following her gaze, turned too, making it impossible for her to disappear. Behind Lee, she could just see Bill shifting in the bed.

“Laura?” he spoke with a voice that was still hoarse but held none of the hostility that he had directed at her earlier. It was an invitation she couldn’t refuse.

“Right here,” Laura replied softly, stepping forward so that she could finally see Bill properly, and be seen. She smiled tentatively at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve just gone ten rounds,” Bill replied, grimacing a little as he tried to stretch, “but otherwise I’m fine.” He paused and his features softened as he looked at Laura. “Better to find you here,” he added. “To find all of you here,” he amended, his eyes darting to Lee and Kara before returning to Laura.

***

 _Ten days_. 

Ten days of his life. Gone. Eight of which he had apparently been walking around, interacting with people, and he had no memory of it. It was disconcerting in a way he couldn't even begin to describe. It would be one thing to be unconscious for that amount of time, but quite another to know that the people closest to him had memories of him from those days that he did not share. The fact that it was due to Cylon interference made it just that much more terrifying. 

He had already decided that the first thing he was going to do in the morning was talk to the Cylon woman. He owed her thanks, from what he was given to understand. But more than that he needed to be one hundred percent certain that what happened to him was really just a remnant of Boomer, triggered by the age of the device, or by someone other freak set of circumstances, and not a precursor to further Cylon aggression. _What if they're on their way back?_ Getting him out of the way would make it that much easier for them to nuke the frak out of the planet below. He needed to know, needed to be prepared. He would be prepared, whatever she said.

Bill removed his glasses and dropped them on the book in his lap, rubbing his eyes. He should sleep. Cottle had insisted he stay in Life Station for monitoring at least overnight, and while he'd grumbled about it, he had been worried enough about any lingering effects to agree without too much of a fuss. Now he was regretting it. What he wouldn't give to be back in his own rack.

Apparently though, Laura was in it. He owed Saul one for that, in some manner or another. He knew for weeks to come he wouldn't be able to sleep without imagining he could smell her hair on his pillow, without thinking about her bare legs sliding against his sheets. And he'd missed out on their plans because of all this business. Just his frakking luck.

The sound of the hatch opening came from behind his curtain. Cottle coming back to poke and prod him some more. He was tempted to feign sleep, but it would make no difference to the doctor.

The curtains rustled, then moved, but the head that appeared didn't belong to the old doctor. It was Laura, almost as if he had summoned her with his thoughts.

"Oh," she breathed when she saw him watching. "I'm sorry. I thought you'd be asleep. I just needed to make sure you were still..."

"Still alive?" he suggested.

"Still you." Her lips quirked and she shrugged one shoulder. _Crazy, I know_ , her eyes telegraphed.

He chuckled. "I'm me, Laura. Come in. Sit. Keep a restless old man company." He nodded to the chair beside his bed.

Her smile was still hesitant, but she sat, folding her hands primly in her lap.

"This book was by the bed," he said, gesturing to the one in his lap. "Was I reading it?"

She nodded, face reddening slightly in the dim light. "I was reading it to you, mostly, but yes."

That was a surprise. He tried to picture it - him lying in bed, conscious maybe, but not himself. Laura sitting beside him, her head bent over the book, the overhead light glinting off the red in her hair, reading to him in the same calming voice he'd heard her use with the children she taught.

That would be a memory worth having.

She was watching him quizzically and he realized he was staring. Blinking, he looked away. "Thank you," he said roughly. "For being here. I know you have other responsibilities. Your students..."

"I'm sure they were quite happy to have a break from Ms Roslin, though after almost two weeks of Tory, they may be ready for me to come back." She laughed lightly, while he snorted. 

"Poor kids. Give them my apologies." He raised his right hand to rub the sore spot on the back of his neck. The doctor explained that was where they had to inject him, that it might be tender for a few days. Somehow he suspected he would never be completely rid of the feeling of something foreign in that spot.

A sharp inhalation of breath brought his eyes back to Laura. "What?" he asked, at the odd look on her face. His hand fell back to his lap.

She shook her head. "Oh. Nothing. Never mind." But it wasn't nothing. He knew her well enough to know that. 

"How are you?" she asked. "Really?"

He allowed the change of subject. "Concerned," he admitted. "About what this means. About lasting effects, about my mind. About what may have happened that I don't remember. Thoughts I may have had. Things I may have said. It's a damned odd feeling, to have moments of your life that are locked away from your conscious mind." He paused, wanting to know, but almost afraid to ask. "Laura, did anything happen between us during the last few days that I need to know about?"

The question seemed to hang in the air for a few beats, and he had the strangest impulse to grab it and pull it back before it could reach her ears. But of course, he couldn’t do that.

She smiled. "No, nothing at all."

***

The moment the words left her lips, Laura was sure Bill would be able to tell she wasn’t being entirely truthful. She braced herself for the reaction she had lately learned to expect –his eyes narrowing in suspicion while his fingers dug into whatever material was available – but that reaction never came. Instead, Bill smiled back at her, nodding his head in quiet acceptance of her answer. She didn’t think he had actually believed her, but just the fact that he was choosing not to push for an explanation filled Laura’s heart with renewed affection for the man sitting in front of her. She had truly missed him.

Another beat passed as they looked at each other in contemplative silence, eyes communicating more than any of the speeches Laura had tried to come up with before entering the Life Station.

Finally, Bill shifted a little and cleared his throat.

“I was just thinking what a pity it is I missed my shore leave,” he said, looking down at his hands and then glancing at Laura again. “I had this girl down at the port I was hoping to spend some time with.”

Laura raised her eyebrow, welcoming the change of subject. “Oh, did you now?” she asked playfully, feigning surprise. “Should I be worried?”

Bill smiled. Was that a blush on his cheeks? No. Laura decided it was just the dim lighting playing a trick on her.

“Well, I’ve had my eye on her for a while now,” he replied after a moment, his eyes following his fingers that were busy playing with the corner of his blanket. “A school teacher, can you believe it?”

“Hmm,” Laura hummed, pretending to consider Bill’s words while a silly grin threatened to break through her charade. “I thought I heard a rumor that you weren’t so impressed with school teachers,” she teased.

Bill shook his head, an almost shy smile playing on his lips. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear on the wireless,” he replied, finally meeting Laura’s eyes again. Then his face grew more serious. ”I happen to have a very high regard for school teachers. One in particular.”

Laura could feel her breath catching in her throat as Bill held her gaze, the look in his eyes confirming what he had implied with his words.

“I’m sure she has a very high regard for Admirals, too,” she replied, struggling to keep her voice light.

“One in particular,” she breathed after a pause.

“So if I ever get another shore leave…?” Bill’s eyes were hopeful now.

As if there could ever be any doubt.

A slow smile began forming on Laura’s lips. She didn’t need to reply.


	26. Epilogue

****_New Caprica_

 

This time, Laura met Bill at the airfield.

New Caprica’s brief summer was already fading into fall by the time Bill was able to return to the planet for shore leave. The day he arrived was cloudy and crisp, but Laura had blankets and a bottle of Ambrosia and they were both hardy souls, after all.

The trek to Laura’s lake took the better part of two hours. Bill carried the picnic basket, Laura the blankets, and if Laura took Bill’s arm a little more often than she needed to when scrambling over exposed roots, well, who was going to see her, anyway?

Laura spread out a blanket on a patch of ground sheltered by trees on three sides, but still with a view of the water. They sat with the second blanket wrapped around their shoulders.

“So this is it,” Bill said. “Where does the cabin go?”

“Right where you’re sitting,” Laura said, opening the picnic basket and pulling out the bottle. “I didn’t pack glasses; I hope you don’t mind sharing.” She twisted off the cap and dropped it back in the basket, then offered the bottle to Bill.

“What do you think?” he said, accepting her offering and taking a swallow, before passing it back.

She grinned at him, then took a sip herself and set the bottle down in the middle of her criss-crossed legs. “So yes, you are currently sitting on my front porch.”

“A front porch,” Bill repeated. “Fancy.”

“Oh yes. I used to be the president, you know. Nothing but the best in rustic structures for me.”

“Is that so? Have an architect all picked out, do you?” Bill reach across her and tugged the corner of the blanket more securely over her opposite arm.

“Well, there’s an Admiral I know, who seems to have a knack for that sort of thing.” She wasn’t at all sure if model ship building and cabin building had much in common, but he seemed to be giving her an opening and she certainly wasn’t going to let it pass her by.

He made a noise of agreement. “I think I know him. Good work ethic. Handsome, too.”

She snorted. “And modest.” She picked up the bottle of Ambrosia and took another belt, passing it over to Bill when she was done.

They fell silent for a while, staring out over the water, the alcohol warming them from the inside out. Without looking, Bill’s hand found hers under the blanket and squeezed.

Laura had finally returned to the planet two days after Bill’s recovery. Baltar was asking pointed questions, and even though Bill was now available to take his calls, they agreed she had pushed the envelope of her absence just about as far as was wise.

Bill never did press her for details of their interactions during his missing time, and she never offered. To tell Bill about those days would be to acknowledge it as a part of the fabric of their relationship. And it wasn’t, not to her, not really. The other Bill had lived a short and haunted life, but it was _his_ , and her memories of their time together, the complicated feelings she had for him were _hers_.

Perhaps it would make no sense to anyone else, but it didn’t have to. And now that this Bill was back, she was looking forward to their relationship progressing on its own timeline. There was nothing to be gained by him knowing that when they finally had their first real kiss, that it wouldn’t technically be the first, because in her heart and mind, it would be.

She squeezed his hand back, and tipped her head to land on his shoulder.

***

Feeling the weight on his shoulder, Bill soon shifted a little to better accommodate Laura and then turned his head so that his lips could brush briefly against the top of her hair. He inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar scent he still liked to imagine lingered on his pillow from the nights she had spent in his rack.

All those nights he’d had Laura exactly where he wanted her, and yet somehow he had managed to miss it all. Perhaps it was the ambrosia starting to get to his head, but the thought suddenly made him chuckle. The unexpected shake of his shoulders, in turn, made Laura lift her head, her eyes probing as she turned to face him, curious about what had made him laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

Bill smiled. Gods how beautiful she looked, cheeks red from the hike and the ambrosia, hair toussled by the wind, eyes as clear as the water that served as their backdrop. Bill knew he had been caught staring but didn’t particularly mind. His feelings for her were no secret.

“You,” he said at last, growing more serious. “And me,” he continued after a beat, wrapping one arm around Laura’s shoulders to pull her a little closer. Another pause. “How frakked up our timing always seems to be,” he finished at last, lifting his other hand to tilt her head.

Laura smiled back slowly, apparently quite satisfied with the position Bill now had her in.

“We’re both here now,” she pointed out after a while, her voice a breathy hum that sent a shiver down Bill’s spine, stirring more within him than just his eagerly beating heart.

Her words had sounded too much like an invitation to be interpreted as anything else. Besides, they were both too old to play games.

“Well that’s a lucky coincidence,” Bill replied after another beat had passed, his attempt to sound casual lost somewhere in the depth of his throat.

“Hmm, it is,” Laura agreed, eyes half closed.

“You know…” Bill began but was interrupted by Laura tugging impatiently at the collar of his jacket.

“Bill?” she breathed.

“Hmm?” His lips lingered just inches from Laura’s mouth now, their warm breaths already mingling in the cooling air, the delicious anticipation almost making the wait worthwhile.

“Could you stop talking?” she hummed, sliding her fingers into his hair, tugging gently at the graying ends.

“Yes ma'am,” Bill replied huskily before finally closing the remaining gap between their lips, feeling Laura sigh contentedly into his mouth as their kiss soon deepened. His last conscious thought, before letting his instincts take over, was why they had ever waited so long.

  


The End

 


End file.
